


Any Wish

by Doceo_Percepto



Category: Kirby - All Media Types
Genre: Dark elements, Gen, Pre-meditated harmful actions, Slow Descent/Revelation of Madness, proceed at your own risk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 21:47:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 29
Words: 46,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5643106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doceo_Percepto/pseuds/Doceo_Percepto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Funny, how wishes can change</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There is only a handful of Marx stories on this website, I have found - or, actually, only a handful of Kirby stories altogether? Maybe I'm missing out on some secret collection here, hehe, but either way, I decided that the Kirby section needed some additions, and I hope it may inspire others to contribute as well. The world can always use more Kirby.
> 
> I originally posted this story on Fanfiction.net back in 2011, but it seems like I'm mostly moving over to ao3 so here we are.

I'm Marx. Marx, not Mark. People tend to get that wrong a lot. I have purple fur, large purple eyes, and a blue and red jester hat with white puffs at the end. Maybe a little on the small side as puffballs go, but I was okay with that: it was my intelligence that made me stand out from others.

Though, I never have actually formally attended school. I like to learn on my own; exploring the forest around my house sometimes, sometimes staying at home and reading tomes. But my foster parents were evidently concerned my behavior was not reflective of what a normal pre-teen's should be. They thought sending my to school with other kids would benefit me somehow.

We used to live in a house relatively isolated from society. But that all changed this year.

See, we moved to the little known Hayashi Grove, on the planet Popstar. It's on the exact opposite side as the town Dreamland, which is home to the legendary weapon, the Star Rod. It was the town closest to our old house, and a very small one at that.

Attending school wasn't even a requirement, and in Hayashi, more often than not made no difference in what your life would be like. Most people stayed in this town for their lives; so little known, hardly anybody new came in, and for some reason or another, nobody left. It's like the world had completely forgotten about the country town.

This isolation probably explained the botched way they added me into the system. They just placed me with the grade of kids my age - regardless of what I knew or didn't. My foster parents assured me they would figure out my skill level and adjust accordingly.

I was pretty sure they were wrong, and the school director had no idea what to do with new kids, but at least I'd be put with students my age.

To be honest, I was a little worried about attending school. I didn't think I'd have a problem with learning what they had to teach, but I wasn't so sure about the whole social part of it. Firstly, I was certain there wasn't anyone of the same species as me: I'd snuck off to the town before to watch the people there, and the most prevalent species' were Yaban: tribal sort of people; very short with peachy colored skin and green or white hair, and Yariko, whom looked much the same but with red or orange hair, and they were taller. Some dees were mixed into the lot too, but I knew I'd still look a lot different than everyone else.

Nevertheless, I was optimistic about school. I like to think I'm an optimistic person.

 

The school building was only one floor, nestled among lots of trees. A small lake was only a few meters from the school.

I showed up about fifteen minutes late because my foster parents got the times all wrong for when it started. I also got really confused about my schedule; apparently one class didn't stay together for a whole day, but rather moved around a bit. So, for example, I might have one group of kids in one class, then an entirely different group for another class. It was all really puzzling, because it meant I couldn't just follow one person to know where I was going.

First class was easy enough to get to, because the principal pointed me in the exact direction for it.

I showed up after everyone had already taken their seats. The teacher, a tall Yariko with vibrant red hair and a white bow, smiled at me.

"Ah, you must be Marx. I'm Mrs. Rorschach. You have first hour with me, and if you ever get lost during the rest of the day, feel free to come back here and I can help you to your next class."

I nodded and glanced worriedly at the rest of the class. At least ten pairs of eyes, all fixed on me with various critical or curious expressions.

Mrs. Rorschach put a comforting hand on my back, but when I flinched from the touch she quickly snapped her hand back in confusion. Recovering, she turned to the class.

"This is Marx," Mrs. Rorschach announced. "He just moved here not too long ago, and will be in your classes. Say hello."

A chorus of 'hi, Marx,' sounded. I wasn't sure what to do, so I just bowed a bit and smiled nervously.

"You can sit there," the teacher said, gesturing to an empty desk toward the back of the room.

I padded over and hopped into the chair. A boy to my left, quite clearly a Yariko, didn't even glance my way but stared at his desk like his eyes would eventually burn a hole into it.

Instead I turned to the person at my right; another reddish brown haired Yariko, but one much taller and thicker than the others. Not that he was fat; just very muscular.

"Hi," I greeted happily.

He glared. "What are you talking to me for?"

I blinked in surprise. "Oh. Sorry." Looked back to the front. Had I done something wrong?

"All right, class," Mrs. Rorschach said. "We'll continue our lesson on division of fractions. Marx, you can try to follow along best you can, and if something is confusing, ask a neighbor."

I was getting the feeling Mrs. Rorschach had never before gotten a new student who did not know the curriculum. But that was okay; I could learn quickly and hopefully catch up with whatever they were doing.

She sketched out several problems on the chalkboard. "There. Solve these on your papers, and I'll collect them once everyone is finished." She then walked over to her own desk and started shuffling through papers.

All the students bowed over their desks and started scribbling frantically on blank sheets.

I blinked a few times and glanced around at each student before looking down at my own desk. Yep, there was a pencil sitting there, and a piece of lined paper.

Glancing at the burly Yariko next to me, I saw he held the pencil carefully in his hand to write. Weird... I'd always read words, but never realized how exactly they were created. My foster parents didn't do much writing, and to be honest, I never went in populated areas enough to see someone writing.

I mean, of course I knew the words were written out somehow. But not that you needed hands to write. I'd used sticks in dirt once to imitate the words I'd learned from books, but this was much different. The lines were so small and cramped: I couldn't achieve that kind of neatness by holding the pencil in my teeth.

This was bad. I... didn't know how to write. Should I tell the teacher that? I didn't want to interrupt anyone else quietly working...

Instead, I leaned over to the taller kid next to me. 'DERRICK' was written in bold jagged letters at the top of his paper, followed by the copied problems.

Most of them, I noticed, were solved incorrectly, and therefore had the wrong answers.

The kid, presumably Derrick, glared when he noticed my gaze. He covered the sheet with his hand and whisper-hissed, "Don't cheat off me!"

I looked away and settled back in my chair. Like I'd be cheating off him. I had no reason to cheat; these problems were all really easy! I could do them all in my head! To mentally prove this point to myself, I systematically solved each problem on the board. Easy as pears.

Or wait... was it pie? Frowning, I evaluated each of the types of food, trying to conclude which was more easy. What the? Did that mean how easy they were to make, or just how easy they were in general, or - ... This was stupid. Neither pies nor pears could be described as easy. How disappointing.

I sighed. Maybe I should tell the teacher I couldn't write. It wasn't like she wouldn't find out eventually. "Mrs. Rorschach?"

She glanced up from her work - and so did most of the students. "Yes, Marx?"

Now almost everyone was looking at me. Class must not be interrupted like this a lot. Immediately, I felt embarrassed. "I... uh... I... can't write."

At first, confusion clouded her eyes, then they traveled to my sides, and lack of arms. Her mouth formed a perfect O. Other students started to whisper among themselves. I felt increasingly nervous. Was it so uncommon to not be able to write? Or to not have the capability to write?

"Right," the teacher said. "You... Okay." She nodded and smiled, recovering herself, it seemed. "That's fine, Marx. I won't expect a paper from you."

What? That was it? "But, I can do the problems," I said.

"Marx, they are equations requiring several steps. It's okay if you aren't able to do them without writing the steps down. We'll figure out something different for you to do."

No, no, no, why wasn't she listening? "I can do them!"

She gave me a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry about it; we aren't accusing you."

Of WHAT? Being stupid? I bared my teeth. "Do you want me to prove it? I can! The first answer is two times the square root of three!"

Mrs. Rorschach stared. "How... how did you do that?"

Beside me, Derrick hurriedly erased his answer {negative 1} and wrote down the one I'd said. His hand shot into the air.

"Uhh, yes Derrick?" The very puzzled teacher said.

"He cheated off my paper! He saw my answer and said it!" Derrick exclaimed.

"Now, Marx, cheating is not allowed -"

"I didn't cheat!" I snarled. "He lied! He had the wrong answer! Go on, look at his paper; all the work is wrong!"

She held up her hand. "I understand being in a new school is hard, but we'll accept you even if you don't fully understand the material. You'll catch up, don't worry. I'll let your cheating go this time around, but don't do it again."

I sank back down in my seat and seethed in fury. Math... was certainly not my favorite subject.


	2. Chapter 2

Next class was Biology, which by far became my favorite. The class had already briefly gone over genetics, and were working on the anatomy and systems of a body. This was something I'd previously taken interest in, and studied a bit from textbooks. Though, I guess most of my experience came from creatures I'd come across in the forest before. Sometimes, I'd just wonder how it worked; like how the bird's wings functioned to keep it aloft. I liked their ability of flight a lot, and studied their structure accordingly. I wasn't quite as experienced with the anatomy of a Yariko or Yaban, but still was proud when the teacher {a young woman with feet but no legs, a taller torso, and her hair up in a bun, called Ms. Erant} asked if anyone could recite the organs commonly found in all species, and I was the only one who knew almost each one.

I think this is the class where people actually started to like me, too. See, when the teacher left to get some supplies for a lab, I had this... idea. She needed to retrieve some measuring cups for water, and left us unsupervised for a short time. The moment she left, I happened to notice a rubber band sitting on the counter, and that the sink in the science classroom had one of those spray nozzles attached to it - the kind you can pull out to have a wider range of areas to spray.

Upon more of an impulse than anything, I leapt up from my desk and trotted down the aisle. Everyone's eyes followed me again, wondering why I could possibly be out of my seat. They sure seemed to watch me a lot.

I jumped onto the counter and grabbed the rubber band in my teeth before carefully wrapping it around the nozzle, so the handle was held down. It took a few moments, but eventually I got it secured.

Many of the students by now figured out my motives - surprise, they weren't completely stupid. I grinned wide at the class and gave a dramatic bow. Most gave quiet cheers, but a few looked nervous and scared. That was okay; they probably wouldn't rat me out because they were too afraid to go against the majority.

I hopped off the table and went back to my desk. The hubbub died down as the teacher entered the room. The class fell unnaturally silent as she walked to the sink. I had to fight back the grin that threatened to spread across my face.

She reached out and turned on the water. Instantly, the liquid shot out from the rubber banded nozzle and sprayed all across her shirt.

"Ahhhh!" she leapt back in surprise, then hurriedly realizing the source of the problem, she lunged forward and turned off the water. The front of her shirt was completely soaked, and I joined in with most of the class in laughing.

That is, until she stalked toward us like an enraged Kracko.

"Which one of you put a rubber band on the handle?" she practically growled. We all went silent. Students glanced at each other as if checking to make sure nobody had their hands up. After all, if one person was going to rat me out, then another person would want to beat them at doing the 'right thing.' If, however, nobody else was going to raise their hand, an individual student would not want to go against the others' unspoken code by giving away who'd done it.

To my immense satisfaction, everyone seemed to be on my side. Not a single hand raised. Even Derrick didn't. He probably didn't want to seem like a teacher's pet.

"No one?" the teacher pressed. "It wasn't here when I left. That means one of you did it, and you should all have seen who it was."

Slowly, I stood up in my chair and then stepped even higher onto my desk. The entire class stared. I could imagine them wondering why I'd confess if they'd kept my silence so well. I concealed a smirk at this.

"Ms. Erant?"

"Yes? Do you think you can tell me?"

I looked at my feet in glum nervousness. "He told us not to tell," I mumbled.

"It's okay, Marx. I promise whoever it is can't bother you. We place our protection of each student as utmost importance. Honesty is key."

I wondered if teachers went to school just to learn those stupid little phrases.

"You sure?" I asked.

"Positive." She attempted a smile which looked very strange with her angrily creased brows and strained lips. She sucked at faking it. Duly noted.

"Well..." I glanced at her for a fleeting moment so she could see the 'honesty' in my eyes. "It was Derrick."

'What?" Derrick shot up from his desk. "I didn't do anything!"

"Come here, Derrick," the teacher said firmly. "Now. You've stepped out of line one too many times."

"Marx did it!" Derrick cried. "The rest of the class could tell you that! Bastard's a little liar!"

"Derrick!" The shocked teacher exclaimed. "Come here this instant!"

"NO! I didn't do it!"

Ms. Erant was not willing to put up with it a moment more. She stormed over to him and clamped her hand on his arm. She then stalked from the room, dragging him after her.

The door slammed.

"Wow," one student voiced.

"That was good," another agreed.

I grinned and bowed again before happily sitting back down in my seat. The class broke into excited chatter, about how he deserved it and such. A few even came over to congratulate me. The rest simply went to their friends to mingle until the teacher returned.

I noticed a girl looking at me curiously from across the room, still in her seat. She wasn't in my previous hour, so I hadn't seen her until this class. She was a dee, with light colored skin and a blue bow and carmel colored eyes.

I smiled at her and she waved back.

Since it seemed like almost everyone else was out of their seats anyway, I padded over to where she sat.

"Hey, hey, hey," I greeted.

"Hello. Marx, right?"

"Yup, that's me! What's your name?"

"Arianna. That was pretty clever, how you blamed Derrick."

I shrugged. "He accused me of cheating; I figured he deserved it."

"He does," she rolled her eyes. "He acts like he runs this school. He's just a bully to other kids. It's about time someone got him back. Though, I hope he's not too mad at you..."

"Why hasn't anyone done something about him?"

"Can't, I guess. For all that stuff teachers say about fairness and protecting students, the school sure manages to turn a blind eye."

"Yes," I nodded thoughtfully. "The Rorschach especially doesn't seem to have a clue!"

"You have her too? Aw, I have her third hour. You shouldn't be mean to her, though," Arianna frowned. "She really does try her best to be a good teacher."

"Doesn't try hard enough," I muttered. Arianna playfully whacked me upside the head with her paw.

"She has her heart in the right place," she scolded. I stared. Had she just hit me?

Arianna laughed. "Sorry. Hehe, you should see your face right now!"

I laughed too. "You surprised me, is all."

At that moment the door opened and Ms. Erant and Derrick walked in. Derrick looked extremely pissed and when he saw me, his eyes flicked to Arianna. If anything, his sour mood worsened tenfold. Clenching his teeth, he stomped back to his desk.

I looked at Arianna inquiringly, but she shook her head. "Long story," she muttered. "I'll tell you later."

The teacher - whose shirt now looked as though she had rung it out but still was not properly dried, took her place at the front of the room and ordered us back to our seats so class could resume.

She didn't tell us Derrick's punishment, but later I heard he was given a week's detention.

Success.


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of my classes passed fairly uneventfully. I was disappointed to find Arianna wasn't in any of them up to lunch, but she was in lunch hour. I'd brought my own food in a nondescript brown paper bag; she actually had a light blue lunch box. It seemed like most people bought lunches, so thankfully it was just us sitting at the table at first. She neatly unpacked a wrapped sandwich, yogurt, and a health bar. I grabbed the bottom of the paper bag and dumped out a pile of oreos, a can of coke {which almost rolled off the table until Arianna caught it}, and an apple. Hey, I liked apples.

Arianna sat the coke upright and stared at my lunch. "This is all you're having?"

"Sure."

"... Coke, oreos, and an apple?"

"Do you see anything else?" I asked, looking around the pile of oreos. I didn't think I'd packed anything else...

"No, it's just an unusual lunch."

I shrugged. "I have my basic three food groups. Sugars... and... fruits... and uh... hmm... Well, it tastes good anyway."

"Aren't your parents concerned about what you eat?"

"Foster parents," I corrected. "And I told them these kind of foods were needed for my diabetes."

"You have diabetes?"

"No, why?"

"You just said you had diabetes."

"Oh!" I laughed. "No, I mean, I told them I had diabetes so I could tell them I needed to eat sugary foods so I could eat whatever I wanted."

Arianna just gaped at me. "W-what? And they believe you?"

"Sure! The doctor told them that too."

"So... you do have diabetes?"

"No, I told you I don't. I just got the doctor to think I did so my foster parents would believe me."

"You did all this just so you could eat oreos for lunch?"

"Is that a problem?" I asked worriedly.

Arianna frowned, but didn't press the subject further.

"So," I said, "Why did Derrick look at you so weird in class?"

She sighed and poked at her sandwich. "It's stupid, really. Back in sixth grade he had a huge crush on me, and asked me out. He wasn't so bad then, I guess. I don't remember him being as much of a bully as he is now. I said yes, because I figured he was a decent guy. But he was such a creep! All he ever did was insult other people in front of me: it was embarrassing! Anyway, he just kept asking me to kiss him, which I didn't want to do at all." She pulled a face of disgust. "Basically, I dumped him and that was that. He's hated me ever since, but I'd rather him hate me than like me so much."

I nodded sympathetically as I munched on oreos. "It doesn't seem like many people like him."

"A lot of people pretend to, because it's easier than getting in his way." Arianna sighed. "Personally, I try to ignore him. I'm a pacifist; I don't like to start anything. He leaves me alone, anyway, so it's okay."

At that point, Arianna's friends began to filter back from the line and sit around us. Our conversation cut off, to be filled with mindless chatter about school and classes and life and gossip and...

I got bored pretty quickly and spent much of the rest of lunch quietly eating. The most eventful thing that happened was when I went to open my can by placing it between my feet and ripping off the top with my fangs. Evidently, they took interest in that and I reveled in their attentions for a bit about that, talking happily about how I did 'normal' tasks without hands or arms.

It was actually a little stupid how amazed they were: having no arms really wasn't that difficult. In fact, functioning day by day seemed more difficult to me if you had two awkward flappy appendages on either side. They would just get in the way.

Still, I wasn't going to complain; there's something nice about explaining the basic way I went about life and having a group of people amazed by it.

School was turning out to be alright after all.


	4. Chapter 4

I exited the school, my feet tap-tapping on my favorite checkered ball, and feeling pretty good about how the day had gone. First day of school, and I'd made a new friend, plus most people seemed to like me alright, despite the rocky start. I'd pulled off one pretty basic prank and gotten away with it. In fact, someone else had been blamed for it! Pretty successful.

I parted from the students, nodded at a few that waved at me, and headed down the dirt path to my house.

A few minutes later, and the school was far behind me: I could make pretty great time with the ball.

Suddenly, I saw a figure dart out from the trees that lined the path. Dart out – toward me! I hurried backpedaled in an attempt to stop before I hit them, but the stupid person ran straight at me. Before I even knew what was happening, they kicked the ball as hard as they could, causing it to shoot out from under me. With a strangled yelp, I crashed to the ground and the wind knocked out of my lungs.

"Hey!" I cried, outraged. Then I had to stop a moment to just breathe, feeling as though I was sucking air through a straw. The person grabbed me roughly by my hat and slammed me against a tree. "What is wrong with y-. " My eyes widened. The attacker was Derrick.

That he looked pissed was an understatement. His knuckles were practically white as he held me against the trunk, and his eyes were narrowed to slits.

I squinted one eye and widened the other in a cynical look. "What crawled into your pants?"

"You crossed the line," he snarled. "Getting me into detention I can forgive, because I'm just a forgiving person, but when it comes to her, no. She's my girl, got it?"

"She-?" Arianna! Did he-? Oh… It clicked. That was why Derrick had looked so hateful in Biology. Arianna had been paying attention to me alone. He actually liked her! Big ol' bully liked Arianna still! It was so comical I had to resist laughing.

Derrick shook me angrily. "Don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about! Flirting with her, being all disgustingly cute-sy. Well, Marx, I don't find it cute at all."

"Good, I don't find you cute either." I smiled cordially. "It's nice to know we agree." This remark earned me a smack across the face, and my smile became forced. My fangs dug into my bottom lip. He was a lot stronger than me. Just because he was stupid didn't mean he couldn't hurt me.

Fine, so I couldn't really confront him now. But now I knew what he cared about and what he was sensitive about. That gave me so much more power over him.

I milked my reaction for all it was worth, turning my head to the side and whimpering as though it had really hurt me. Granted, it had. My cheek stung from the force, and the moment he had struck me my regard to him changed. Before he was just an annoying self-conscious kid that wasn't worth my time.

He probably still wasn't worth my time, except he'd made himself my enemy with this. No one had ever physically attacked me like this before and I decided I didn't like it at all. No, I couldn't put up much of a fight now... but if he tried to cross me in any situation I could take advantage of... well, I wouldn't hesitate.

"I'm sorry," I whined. "Please don't hit me." He seemed satisfied at my subservient attitude.

"I won't have to hit you if you avoid Arianna," he asserted. "She's my girl, and you are NOT allowed to get within ten feet of her, understand?"

This was the second time he had said 'my girl,' but I was pretty sure she hated him. What an idiot. Probably thought he had a chance. "I understand! Please, I'll leave her alone, just let me go…" I squirmed piteously.

"You better," he growled. "If I see you near her, you'll be getting a lot worse than just one hit."

I nodded and averted my eyes as though afraid to look at him. "Yes, yes, yes, I'll avoid her…"

He looked down at me scornfully. "You're such a weird kid. I dunno why she would even be near you."

With this, he let go and I dropped to the ground.

He stalked away. My attitude was much more thoughtful when I retrieved my ball and hopped back onto it. Turns out I had made some enemies here… But there was no problem with that. It was a challenge I was willing to accept.

When I returned home, I told my foster mother that I'd gotten the bruise from falling off my ball.


	5. Chapter 5

Derrick harbored this seemingly unfounded hatred for me. I thought it was just about Arianna at first, but then I remembered how he'd been rude to me the very first time I'd spoken to him. It was like he had this natural aversion to me; an innate hatred before he'd even met me.

After our little... discussion a few days ago, he'd made an effort to actively antagonize me. It started kind of small, like calling me names or insulting my behavioral quirks. Some of those quirks I didn't even realize I had until he pointed them out, like my habit of spacing out and staring at one random student fixedly for minutes on end. They all touched on truths I found somewhat sensitive - not that they really bothered me. No. Not that much. Just a little uneasy, maybe, because they persisted day by day.

I didn't understand exactly why he did this. I'd tried to avoid Arianna during school best I could - going so far as to making excuses at lunch hour that I had to go to the library. I wasn't confident enough yet to oppose him in any way again, knowing he was, in truth, much stronger than me.

I just kept my head down and let the insults go right through me without protest. If I just put up with it now, I could think out a plan for doing something about it.

But Arianna made me disobey Derrick's command before I was ready.

During Biology class, it was not necessarily as easy to avoid her.

Especially when the teacher told us to pick partners for a lab, and she went straight to my desk. We hadn't even spoken in four days - not after Derrick had cornered me. He glared in my peripheral vision.

"Uh, hi," I winced. "Don't you have another partner or something?"

She looked offended, and a little saddened. "You don't want me to work with you?"

"Erm... I'm sick. I think, so you don't catch it, you should stay like... at the other end of the room. Yes."

"You don't look sick," she retorted, but her voice was subdued.

"I'm very ill," I nodded convincingly, and added a weak cough. Not my best excuse, but it'd just fallen out of my mouth before I could think if it was all that logical or not. Derrick's eyes had to be burning a hole into my back.

I shifted nervously and suppressed a whimper. "Please, I need another partner-"

She stepped back, expression hurt. "Okay. Fine, Marx. I got it."

She turned to find someone else, but at that moment the teacher clapped her hands together. "Okay class! Do you all have your partners now?"

The two of us glanced around the room to find that every single other person had already found a partner. Even Derrick was paired with another thickset Yariko, likely one of his friends. I quickly looked away.

We were the only two not paired. And you know what that meant.

That's why Arianna made me disobey. I couldn't NOT work with her, otherwise the teacher would get upset. So, after the teacher explained what we were to do, Arianna sat beside me and we got to work on diagrams of the muscular systems. It was some worksheet to help prepare for the upcoming dissection of a rat.

She was very quiet at first; I was too worried about whether this would count as breaking his order or not. After a few moments where neither of us spoke except to discuss different parts of the worksheet, I finally began to relax.

Whether or not Derrick considered this an offense against him, I would be stuck with Arianna all hour. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't like her: she was so nice and friendly. Recalling her hurt expression before, I decided maybe I should make the most of this hour anyway.

"Hey," I whispered, leaning closer to her so my voice wouldn't carry. "Arianna, can we talk?"

"I think this is the..." she glanced over at a chart, "brachialis?"

"No, I mean, like, friendly and stuff."

"Or maybe its the spinotr-... how is that pronounced...?"

I frowned. "Arianna, please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you or anything."

"It's okay if you don't like me," she told me without looking my way. "Let's just get this sheet done with."

"No, no, no," I widened my eyes. "I do like you; I did want to work with you. You're really nice. I like you a lot."

She glanced at me oddly. "If you like me so much, why didn't you want to work with me? That was pretty rude."

"I..." Cringe. Lying to her was different somehow. More difficult. "I couldn't."

Something in my expression must've told her that I wasn't directly lying then. "You... couldn't? Marx, that doesn't make any sense. We could pick our lab partners."

"It was... I could pick anyone, but not you because... Well, it happened anyway, but it wasn't my fault, and I'm okay with it this way."

My words were met with bewilderment. "Could you.. elaborate at all?"

I bit my lip worriedly. Well, he'd never said not to tell. "Derrick ordered me not to," I admitted.

"Not to be lab partners with me?"

"Not to be near you," I corrected.

"You're kidding, right?"

"No..."

She gaped. "Marx, you don't have to stay away from me just because he tells you! That's so ridiculous; he can't order you to do anything."

I sank down in my seat. Boy, she looked angry.

"You have to tell someone about that," she urged. "Tell a teacher; they'll sort it out for you."

I shook my head. "I-I don't... No, it's my problem."

"If you don't tell, I'll tell. You have the free will to do whatever you want." She rose abruptly from her seat and I squeaked.

"No, wait! Please!"

She glanced back at me impatiently.

I forced a small smile. "Maybe... I have to avoid you. But you don't have to avoid me. I can't really help it if you try to hang out with me, can I?"

Arianna started to smirk too but then she frowned sternly. "You ought to tell still."

"But... this could be like a game," I proposed. "I'm not REALLY listening anyway, am I? Not if I'm your lab partner. It's us against him."

She laughed a little and sat back down. "You're so strange, you know that? But sure, Marx, let's call it a game. I'm up for a challenge, and Derrick needs to learn he's not the god of the school."

I nodded and grinned mischievously.

In the weeks following this event, our friendship certainly strengthened. It was a little funny though; we never really did do anything to directly oppose Derrick. It was more like a running joke, that someday we'd pull a prank on him and embarrass him in front of the school or something like that.

She took it all very lightly. After all, I didn't tell her about Derrick's scathing remarks toward me. Didn't tell her the times I'd been cornered in the hallway and had to use my own quickness to dart out before he could hurt me. Didn't tell her that I stuck to the crowds as much as I could to avoid being alone.

Thankfully, she began to walk home with me, for her own house lay relatively near mine. She would be able to walk all the way down the oak path that began in front of the school before turning off at the fork in the road and heading to her house. Since we walked together, Derrick avoided confrontations then.

Still, I tended to hurry the remainder of the way as quick as I could on my checkered ball. Just in case.


	6. Chapter 6

"Oh, I have a game!" I declared, turning to Arianna. "Spell fort."

"Fort? That's easy, Marx. F O R T.'

"Good, spell it again."

"Wha? F O R T."

"Yupl! Now say it three times."

"Fort fort fort."

"One more time."

"Fort."

"Good." I smiled. "Now, what do you eat soup with?"

She hesitated a moment then shouted "FORK! Ha! You couldn't trick me."

I grinned mischievously. "You eat soup with a fork?"

She gaped. "How did you do that? I'm usually good at stuff like that."

I shrugged my foot and grinned. "Everyone falls for it. It's funny."

"Everyone, huh? That includes you. Well, try this. What's two plus two?"

"Four," I replied.

"Four plus four?"

"Eight."

"Eight plus eight?"

"Sixteen."

"Sixteen plus sixteen?"

"Thirty-six."

"Now quick! Pick a number between five and twelve!"

"Got one," I nodded. Yep, 11.43 seemed like a reasonable number.

Arianna smirked. "The number is 7, isn't it?"

I blinked in surprise. "Uh, no."

"No? What? Everyone picks 7!"

"My number was 11.43," I told her, confused. "Why would people generally pick seven?"

"You just... do," Arianna replied. "You're the first person I've come across that hasn't answered seven."

"Hmm..." I nodded. "I'll have to try that sometime. But you can't beat the master of the mind game!" I stuck out my tongue and cackled wildly.

She laughed. "I didn't claim to. That's just something my father taught me once."

"You also can't backflip on a ball," I pointed out.

"Neither can you."

I lowered my eyes. "True. I probably couldn't even do it for ten dollars."

"Ten dollars? That isn't very much. You're right; you couldn't."

I shrugged. "It seemed like a reasonable bet."

"Well, I guess it would be. But I didn't say I was going to bet money."

"So you think I can?" I shot back. "You think I can do a backflip on a ball?"

Arianna laughed. "No, silly. You may have good balance, but not THAT good."

"I bet you ten dollars I can do it," I challenged.

"I bet ten you can't!"

"Okay!" I trotted to the hallway and returned with my checkered ball. She had her arms crossed and a smug look on her face.

"You actually have to land it too," she told me. "No falling off or it doesn't count."

"Deal." I nudged the ball to the center of the room and hopped onto it confidently. Okay, so I hadn't actually done a backflip before, but that was okay. I'd done plenty of other tricks, including front flips, and I didn't doubt my skill. Much.

"Go on," she said. "Try it."

I crouched down and narrowed my eyes in focus. Yup, just like a front flip. Only backwards. I leaped backwards. My feet left the ball, and I spun in the air to land perfectly back on the ball. Well, almost perfectly.

I had to spend a few seconds rebalancing, but when it finally steadied, I grinned wide. "Ha! There! I did it, I proved I could! You owe me ten dollars!"

"I don't even have ten dollars!" she laughed. "No offense, but I expected you to fall."

 

Biology easily became my favorite class. I was pretty good at all my classes - in fact, they were often painfully easy - but Biology was different. It still came pretty naturally to me, but not so much that it was boring. Rather, it fascinated me.

Knowing was power. I memorized all the bones of the body rapidly, and learned even quicker the nervous system and muscles on my own. The class moved depressingly slow, but the textbook provided seemingly endless opportunities.

I started thinking that I'd like to be a doctor or something like that. I knew both how to make people hurt, and how to make them better. Constructive seemed like a better option, so being a doctor was a great outlook. I studied hard, planning to get the rest of the way through general school, then move on to a different specialized school for doctors elsewhere.

Then the teacher completely shredded that idea. According to him, I couldn't be a doctor. Not if I didn't have the use of two good hands, he said.

I'd told him I was just as capable as everyone else - but no. I was handicapped, according him - just because I lacked two extra flappy appendages that would stick out awkwardly from my sides, I was incapable. Limited.

My passion for biology didn't really fade. It just sort of changed a bit. I didn't really care about healing people. And I wondered, were I to remove the teacher's arms, would he still think himself fit for the job?

Anyway, today we got to dissect a rat - or at least, my partner did since I couldn't. The teacher had paired all the kids up into twos for the lab.

"Stupid rigor mortis," I muttered, prodding the dead rat disdainfully. To compensate for my lack of arms, the teacher had found me a stool level with the table. That way I could poke it with my feet as I pleased, though my lab partner, Tashe, was the one designated to do the actual dissection. Evidently, I wasn't capable of making those precise incisions with the scalpel in my mouth.

We were having some trouble. We were supposed to remove the heart as part of the lab. Problem: How were we supposed to even reach the heart if the rat's arms were all frozen across its chest?

"Ew, stop that," Tashe shrank away. "That's gross, Marx. You're making it move."

I shrugged my foot and stepped back. "Just cut it right down the middle and we'll see what we can do," I suggested.

"Ewwwww." She picked up the scalpel like it was some diseased thing and nervously hovered over the rat.

I rolled my eyes. "Just do it."

"This is so gross," she squeaked. Finally she began the necessary cut from the collar bone down to the abdomen. It took her a while to figure it out, and I waited, impatiently tapping my foot. Of course, I had to be put with the slowest lab partner. Or... maybe not, I thought, looking around at the useless jobs everyone else was doing. Although, Arianna didn't look too squeamish when I peered across the room at her, which made me pleased for some reason. She leaned over her frozen rat with a properly determined expression, scalpel in hand. I smiled mildly at the sight.

A slight clatter of metal distracted me. Annoyed, I glanced back at Tashe, who had at last managed to make the incision. She'd set down the scalpel and now gazed at the slit with uneasy eyes.

"Great," I said. "Now, grab either side of its ribs and just pull outward a bit. We're going to have to get to the heart somehow."

She nervously did as I asked and lightly pulled both sides out by the teensiest amount, revealing a sliver of the organs inside. Instantly, she gagged and turned away. "Oh, that's so sick! I can't do it!"

I sighed. Really, I didn't get what was so 'nasty' about this. Did she realize what SHE looked like on the inside? Not all that different, I promise you.

"Fine, I'll do it," I snipped. "And I don't even have fingers! See, this is easy."

I wedged the tip of my foot into the crack between the ribs. It'd be a little tricky without the dexterity of fingers, but I could make due. "You just have to separate the sides enough that we can get to the organs..." I shifted my foot, pushing the ribs apart.

They stubbornly resisted, locked in rigor mortis. With my attention fully focused on the task at hand, I muttered half-attentively at my partner, "Just gotta... be real careful... to not -"

Crack! The sound was loud like a gunshot, and the entire room went silent.

... Well, ribs just broke. My bad.

"Khhhhh..." I tried to choke back the laughter, but I couldn't hold it for long - it burst from my mouth; loud and raucous. "HAHAHAHA Oh my god, did you see that? HAHAHA!" I threw back my head, maybe a little too enthusiastically, and somehow lost my balance.

I crashed to the floor and the stool clattered down beside me. It banged loudly, though the sound didn't manage to drown out my uncontrollable laughter. Only, the moment I hit the hard floor, all the wind knocked out of my lungs. My next breath in was constricted and painful. I fought for air while simultaneously wheezing out laughter. It probably sounded like I was dying.

I tried to rasp out an "I'm okay!" but it only came out as a wordless gasp.

"Are you alright?" I heard a familiar voice say above me.

I cracked open my watering eyes to see Arianna kneeling worriedly above me.

"F-F-Fuh-AHHAHA Yhhh-" I tried to bite down on my lower lip to shut up, but it really just made me tremble with laughter, and made my lip hurt like hell. "HAHA OW OW-"

I winced and my laughter finally dwindled down. Once I was actually able to breath again, I sighed loudly. "Okay... okay, I think I'm better now. Yes."

She helped me up, frowning. "Marx... what happened?"

I shrugged with my foot and rolled my eyes, giggling. "Heh, I have no idea! That was so weird." I squinted at her. "Are YOU behind it?"

It only took me a moment to realize she wasn't playing around. She leaned slightly away and glanced at the rest of the class. Everyone crowed around her and I, looking on in confusion and... trepidation? ...When had they all gotten over here anyway?

"You're bleeding," Arianna said, pointing to my lip.

"Eh? Oh, I guess I am." It wasn't like that hadn't happened before. If you have these sharp of fangs, it's almost inevitable to catch them on your lip or the inside of your mouth sometimes. I licked away the offending red liquid and glanced at everyone curiously. "Well? Are we going to continue the lab?"

It was weird: as soon as I said that, everyone shuffled back to their own separate places. The teacher cast me an odd look, then walked back to the front of the room. "Yes, moving on with the work..."

"What happened?" I whispered to her, ignoring the fact she asked me that same question only a moment before.

"You just... looked really creepy for a minute there. I guess you unnerved them."

"And you?"

"A bit." She grimaced. "But, it's okay. Just... don't do that again."

"Mm, I'll try not to." Try being the key word there. It's not like I did that on purpose in the first place.

Arianna went back to her own work table, and I to mine.

Tashe eyed me distrustfully. "You're really weird, you know."

"Thanks," I snapped back.

She didn't talk to me for the rest of the hour.

 

Walking back from school, I finally brought up the subject I'd been wondering all day. "Why did everyone freak out in Biology?" I asked.

"I told you, you just looked really creepy for a bit..." Arianna said, frowning.

"My laughter is creepy?" I giggled.

"Not usually, but there was this look in your eyes..." She shivered. "I don't know, Marx, but it wasn't like you."

"Mmm, I guess. Hehe, Tashe wouldn't get within three feet of me after that."

"I saw her face. Poor girl, I think you mortified her."

"She was so squeamish; it was irritating," I stuck out my tongue to emphasize my point.

"You were looking at the organs of a rat," Arianna pointed out. "That makes a lot of people squeamish."

"She's made of the same crap," I muttered surlily.

"Marx!"

"What? It's true!"

"It's just rude to say something like that."

"It doesn't bother me - I'm made of organs too." I pointed out matter-of-factly. "Muscle and bone and squishy organs. Otherwise, I couldn't do this!" I backflipped on my ball and landed back on my feet.

"Just don't say that around others," she replied, rolling her eyes.

"That's stupid; I'm only being honest."

Arianna shook her head but I saw her smile. "Marx, people don't generally like being compared to rat guts."

"Do you?" I rolled the ball closer to her and hovered over her with a grin.

She laughed and swatted playfully at the checkered ball, nearly causing me to fall off. "Of course not!"

"Well, you should!" I cackled, leaping away from her.

"Oh yeah?" she raised one nonexistent eyebrow {don't ask me how!}. "Do YOU want to be compared to a pile of rat organs?"

"I am not a pile of rat innards! I am a nicely organized stack of Marx organs, thank you very much!"

She scrunched up her face. "Ugh, let's get off this topic."


	7. Chapter 7

Fall became winter. Temperatures dropped, leaves fell from the trees. Ice began to form around the edges of the lake. My initial decent reputation decided to shatter after the first few days of school, so by winter most of the students simply ignored me. The fiasco with the rat may have taken part in this, but mostly, I think it was that I was different than them.

They failed to grasp concepts I thought were basic: we'd spend an entire class on simple subjects because they failed to understand them. But, things I found difficult were practically innate for them. It was all flipped!

Then, my humor was always so different from them. I didn't get their jokes and they rarely got mine. If this wasn't enough, I still hadn't figured out how to handle Derrick's bullying. Not that I had stopped trying. I just... tended to ignore him. Avoid him as much as I could.

Nevertheless, I was determined to make today good.

It was my birthday: or at least, what my foster parents decided my birthday to be, since we didn't know exactly when I was born. November 4 was my birthday, according to them.

To be honest, I didn't really get the point of birthdays, but I wasn't about to complain: birthdays meant free gifts.

Before going to school, my foster parents gave me a new ball, this time striped. The checkered one was getting kind of old anyway.

I was ecstatic about the gift: knowing my parents, I had expected something very stupid and unlike me - but hey, surprises are good! I'd swiftly ditched the old one in favor of the new striped one.

It was the first thing Arianna noticed when I went to school. "That's from your parents?" she said in surprise.

"Yeah, I didn't expect it either," I told her. "But, it's great, right?"

She nodded and shifted slightly in place. "I got you something too."

"Ooh, what?"

"I wish I'd thought of getting you a striped ball like that, but," she flushed. "Well, I don't think I could've afforded it, and... well, I hope my gift is alright."

She held out her hands. In her palms sat a red ribbon which she'd tied neatly into a small bowtie.

I stared. It was perfect! So simple, but I liked it immediately.

"I-it's kinda plain," she averted her eyes.

"No, no!" A grin spread across my face and I jumped from foot to foot. "It's great!"

"Really?"

"Yes! Can I wear it now?"

"Hold still." I waited patiently while she put it on. "I was a little worried," she admitted, "because it was all one color, not blue and red like your hat."

"That would look weird," I scorned. "It's fine as it is!"

She smiled and stepped back. "I'm glad you think so."

I looked down at the bowtie and smiled wide. "Yup! Thanks, Arianna."

The bell rang and we had to filter into class, but I felt a renewed happiness with the presents I had received.

A few days later, I pulled perhaps the most stupid stunt I'd ever done. It was entirely an impulse of the moment, and regretted a tenfold in the future.

Arianna and I had simply been talking beside the lake about something trivial and mindless, when I noticed Derrick walking with his two closet friends, Kai and May, nearby.

He looked my way, and I saw his eyes narrow. He hated me talking to Arianna. It made him furious, and made me happy. I grinned and winked.

"And then she said..." Arianna cut off. "Who are you winking at?"

"Eh?" I smiled. "You. Sorry, I got distracted by a kid falling down over there."

"Oh, are they all right?" She glanced back.

"Hm? Yeah, sure, he's fine."

From the corner of my eye, I saw Derrick storming this way. How could I make him even angrier? I wondered.

And well... I leaned forward and kissed her. It was the right idea: not much would piss him off that much. It didn't have to be neat or anything, as long as Derrick saw us. I grinned into the kiss. Oh, to see his face right now...

He stopped abruptly, stared wordlessly. Hehehe...

I eyed him and saw him turn on his heel and run off. Grinning, I stepped back and watched his retreating steps.

Arianna's voice, gentler than I'd ever heard before, brought me back to the present. "Marx..." she said simply, and my gaze returned to her abruptly. She was searching my expression gently, her cheeks lightly red. My smile faded. Oh... Did she? No, she couldn't have - she did? Her expression was so open - pleasantly surprised, exploring yet content. She likes me? Like that? Like THAT. The like-like kind of relationship. Love. Oh, that was so weird. Way too weird.

Did I like it? Yes, I must've liked it too. Arianna was pretty, I decided, as for the first time I really assessed her appearance. She always looked so neat and nice, after all, and we did get along so well. Despite these thoughts, a strange panic roiled within me. Instead of feeling further drawn to her, I was more repulsed. I didn't want a like-like relationship with her. I don't love her?

Looking at her hopeful, sparkling brown eyes and flushed cheeks, it occurred to me that I should. In fact, I kind of wanted to. I really wanted to. I had absolutely no idea what it was, but I wanted to feel that emotion so badly, more than anything, at this moment. But I didn't. I couldn't. I... couldn't?

She hugged me all the time and I felt nothing, I kissed her and I felt nothing. Nothing at all. A void. Oh god. This... wasn't normal at all, was it? I wasn't normal; they were all right. Paralyzed, I found all I could do was stare as her hopeful expression degenerated.

"What's wrong?" Arianna breathed, stepping closer. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," I said hurriedly. "No, you haven't done anything wrong. It's me."

"You haven't done anything wrong either, Marx. It's okay, if you... like-like me." She placed a paw on my cheek soothingly. "Because, well... I lo-"

"I'm sorry!" I recoiled from her touch and stepped out of her reach. Her expression could've torn me in two. "Sorry, it's not... I... I don't... "

She lowered her arm. "What is it? What's wrong?"

I whimpered. "Arianna, I'm - it's... I don't think I can feel..." The word twisted around my tongue like barbed wire.

"That you can feel...?" Arianna supplied, searching my expression.

"That I can feel love," I rushed to say.

"What? That's ridiculous; everyone feels love!"

"Since when am I like everyone?"

"Y-you're serious?" Arianna stared. "Of course you can!"

I shook my head. My eyes met hers with a sort of wild desperation. "I can't - Arianna, please, understand, I want to, I want to feel something! I want to like you as more than just a friend and trust you will everything and rely on you and, and I want to... I feel broken and empty, but I don't know what I'm missing or why and what it's like... because I can't feel it." I choked back a sob. "I'm sorry." I tried to take another step away, but Arianna wrapped her arms around me tightly. Like she was afraid to ever let go. It ripped me apart to know I could not feel the same emotion swelling in her now; this unconditional sensation.

"Marx," she said against my fur. I think she was crying. "Even if you can never return it, I know you wish you could, and it must hurt to be unable to. But... I still love you, and I truly wish you could know how wonderful that feeling is."

She hardly seemed surprised, after that initial shock. And I thought, just maybe, she had already guessed what I hadn't realized. She had known.

If I could pick any wish then, with the knowledge it was the only wish I could ever make, but it was guaranteed to come true...

I would've wished to understand love.


	8. Chapter 8

I discovered something very odd over the next few days. Something I didn't like at all, but couldn't make a difference about.

Derrick's insults had never bothered me as long as I was confident in myself. But suddenly one specific insult meant something to me. When he called me crazy. Because now I couldn't be sure that it wasn't true. Maybe I was crazy. Maybe he was right all along; I was different and deranged. Why else would I not be able to feel love? Why else would I find such morbid things hilarious? There had to be something wrong with me. It was the only explanation for why my reactions were always different from everyone else's.

Even they were beginning to realize it! Everyone's initial liking of me was starting to wear down as they realized that innocent prank the first day hadn't completely reflected my entire personality. They were coming to the correct conclusion that my humor deviated very far from theirs, and that I guess, somehow, I didn't understand limits that were supposed to be innate.

Like with the dissection; while I'd only found the situation comical, it had truly bothered my lab partner, whom had apparently gone and told her friends, whom had heard it from other class mates...

The whole school knew, it seemed. And it didn't earn me anyone's favor.

I guess my point is that I was under a lot of pressure. No one really liked me anymore except Arianna, Derrick's insults were really grinding my nerves, and to cap it all off, I started questioning myself.

I mean, I didn't think I was crazy until now. Not that I think I am now. Of course not. I'm not crazy. It's everyone else that thinks I am, but that doesn't make it me. No, I know I'm not crazy, it's just sometimes I wonder why I'm so different. Different doesn't have to be bad or anything.

I'm... confused a lot, I guess. It was easy to be sure of myself before school, when there was nothing to compare myself to. That's a general truth, isn't it? If a person never meets any other person, then they would have no reason to believe that anyone else was not like them. So, if they happen to step into society all the sudden, and realize everyone is actually completely different from them, and they're strange... who's at fault, the person, or society? Who is normal anyway?

Surely their fault. How was I supposed to know all these supposedly natural things?

But then again, I couldn't really use that argument because I actually lived with people - albeit just foster parents - and observed others many times before now. Maybe I just didn't understand when I was younger. Didn't notice.

No matter how much I thought about it, I couldn't help coming to the conclusion that Derrick might really be right.

This was the very last conclusion I wanted to come to.

Maybe Arianna knew better. She was pretty smart, and she knew me well.

That's why I decided to leave my house without telling my foster parents and go to hers at some ungodly hour. I just couldn't sleep, these thoughts just festered in my head and pestered and pestered at me.

With only the silver sickle moon as my guide, I approached her dark house and eyed the second floor window. That was hers. Getting up was a little tricky at first; I had to jump onto the roof of their car, then clamber clumsily onto the edge of the house roof. Next I sidled over to the window and tapped at it with my foot gently.

No response.

She was probably asleep. I tried again, this time harder. The currents were drawn, so I couldn't actually see in. Was she there?

I rapped on the window, growing impatient. I needed her advice right now. Why didn't she answer when I needed her? She was obligated to be there for me. Anger bubbled up, and I prepared to kick in the window when the curtains were at last thrown up.

She stood at the other side, rubbing her eyes and gazing up sleepily. She saw me and gasped before opening the window hurriedly. My anger dissipated.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered. "It's...!" Glance at the clock, "Eleven forty! At night!"

"It's important." I dropped into her room, even though she'd given me no indication to do so.

"Important? You couldn't wait till morning?"

I shook my head. "Arianna, am I crazy?"

She blinked and stared. "What?"

"Am I... crazy. Like... not normal. Crazy."

It was clear she still hadn't shrugged off the lethargy and she spent a moment blinking at me and trying to focus with sleep-blurred eyes. "Are you crazy? What the-? Marx, why are asking that?"

It wasn't an answer. I tensed. "Answer."

"No..." she sighed, her words beginning to slur together. "I dun' think you're crazy. What's this about?"

I narrowed my eyes. What if she was lying? She could be lying. "Tell the truth," I growled.

She rubbed her eyes drowsily. "Ugh, Marx, I'm a zombie if I don't have all my sleep. Can we talk in the morning?"

"No!" I said vehemently. "Now, we need to talk now, I need this now."

The fog in her eyes cleared slightly and she gazed at me worriedly. "Wha-? Marx, is something wrong?"

"I just need to know! Tell me the truth."

"What was the question?"

"Am I crazy?" I snapped loudly.

"Shh! My parents will hear you!"

I clamped my mouth shut obediently but fixed my fierce purple-eyed glare on her pointedly.

"Jeez..." By now, her drowsiness had fully left her. "M-Marx, what's going on? Did something happen? You aren't acting like yourself."

"Answer," I hissed.

"No, I don't think you're crazy. I never said I did. Of course I don't think that about you."

"You're lying."

"I'm not," she said in distress. "What's wrong? What happened? Why are you acting like this?"

I swear she was lying. There was a tone in her voice; it must be that of a lie; I could hear it. Why? Why would she do that? Why did she lie, and... I shuddered. No, this was Arianna, why would she lie? Why would she have a reason to?

Well, everyone was a liar. She couldn't really be any different, why did I expect any more -

No, this wasn't right. I came to talk to her, to be comforted. This was only freaking me out more, but I didn't know why. No reason to be worried. But, unless, she might be... Was this a lie? I blinked and wondered if I was dreaming.

I turned to her. "Am I dreaming?" I whispered.

"N-no... this isn't a dream, Marx. This is real." A concerned paw reached out to touch my cheek. I flinched and she drew back, an unfathomable look in her eyes.

"Really real?"

A sad, confused smile. "Yes, Marx. Really real."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I came into your room without permission. At such a bad hour too... I don't really know what I was thinking."

"It... that's okay. Don't worry about it."

I lowered my eyes. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. You're a good person, you know. You're a little strange sometimes, but that can be a good thing. You're not crazy; not at all. Everyone has a little craziness to them, but that doesn't make you insane. You're just... just Marx." She smiled at me.

"Thanks." I grinned at her cheerfully. I wasn't convinced by her words though. Maybe going to her hadn't been such a great idea. All she knew me for was what she saw on the outside, which wasn't exactly me, was it? - she didn't know my own thoughts.

"If you ever need me again, I'll be here," she added. Hesitation, then she leaned forward and gave me a light hug. I almost recoiled, but resisted that reflex. It was okay. This was Arianna.

"Thanks..." I whispered.

I felt better about it all, until I left her house and set off down the dark road on my own again. I felt somehow nothing much had changed from when I had came.


	9. Chapter 9

The next day I came to school to find many students all flocked around a tree - what they were doing, I didn't know.

Arianna spotted me on the outskirts and detached herself from them to stand by me.

"It's so terrible," she moaned, eyes shining with sadness. She clung to my side and gestured toward the crowd.

"What is?" I asked. "What's happening?"

She pulled me closer. "A little bird," she replied in a hushed tone, "fell out of the tree, we think." The crowd parted a bit so Arianna and I could shuffle in. All around me were croons of 'sad,' 'so tragic,' 'poor thing.'

The subject of their attentions lay on the leaf-strewn ground: a tiny feathery blue bird. Its eyes were glassy and its body looked strangely deflated, as though it had thinned and flattened in death. It was really quite ugly.

"Isn't it sad?" Arianna whispered at my side.

"I don't understand," I said.

Those nearest to us quieted their sympathetic noises. Several pairs of eyes turned to me. It was much like the first day of school, when I mentioned I couldn't write.

Arianna regarded me worriedly. "You... don't understand?"

"No," I replied, frustrated. I didn't get it at all. I should've dropped the subject, pretended to understand, but the point was, I didn't understand. Now everyone was looking at me and somehow I felt I should at least try to explain myself. The stares were kind of uncomfortable though.

I pressed on determinedly. "What's there to be sad about? It's dead; isn't that some kind of relief? We know it isn't in pain or anything. Anyway, it's just a bird. It doesn't affect us."

Everyone stared at me like I'd just grown three heads.

Weird thing was, not a single person could really come up with a valid argument. It was more like they didn't want to consider what I'd said, solely because it was right but they didn't want it to be right.

"See my point?" I asked. "It's... sort of pointless." I chuckled. "Pointless bird."

"That's morbid," another student complained.

"Yeah! Death isn't a relief, what's wrong with you?"

"I only mean it's not suffering!" I protested. "Not that we really should care, because, like I said, it doesn't have feelings or anything. How does it affect us? Tomorrow, we won't even remember it."

"You don't question why it's sad," someone called out. "You just understand that it is and leave it at that."

A chorus of 'yeahs!' responded to this and I shrank back. "Look, sorry, I was just saying my opinion."

"Maybe you shouldn't say your opinion," a very familiar voice called out. Derrick pushed himself to the front of the crowd and glared at me. "No one cares about your opinion because you're crazy."

"I'm not crazy!" I growled, stepping forward.

"Oh yeah? Then why can't you act normal? Why don't you see things like everyone else does?"

"I... I have my opinions about things! There's nothing wrong with that!"

Derrick leaned too close to my face. His voice was almost a whisper, malicious and angry, but quiet so only I could hear it. "You can't feel things like normal people can. You think I haven't noticed? I'm not a stupid as you think. You go out of your way to learn what bugs me and what pisses me off - well, I did the same damn thing, Marx. I think I'm the only person that knows you. You're twisted. You liked it when everyone was scared of you in science. Some sick part of you wants that fear; wants that control over people. You talk to Arianna all the time, but you're just dancing around the fact you can't even relate or feel the same emotions as she does. Yeah, I know you, Marx, I know there's something wrong with you and you're batshit insane."

It took me only half a second to slam my foot into his chest. He crashed onto his back, and I lunged to dig my fangs into his arms, which he'd thrown before his face for protection.

They pierced through his skin with unbelievable ease; I jerked my head down and sliced it open like salami. Red welled up from the gash, ran down in rivulets.

I didn't even know what I was doing, I only knew I wanted to hurt him. Again and again I ripped at the tender flesh on his forearms, tasting his metallic blood and feeling the liquid drip down my chin. His screams urged me on; his rapid attempts to throw me off unsuccessful as I succumbed to my own fervor.

The other students were screaming at me, at Derrick, at nothing in particular - I hardly noticed, I didn't care. The onslaught was what was important; I needed to hurt him as bad as I could. Maybe it wasn't even raw anger anymore - I didn't know - I just bit down as deep as I could and tore at his flesh, feeling driven by some feral feverishness, some inner force that demanded this from me.

Suddenly hands grabbed me from behind, trying to pull me off. I growled and latched onto his wrist, unwilling to so quickly give up my victim.

My fangs dragged along his wrist as the unknown person pulled. Already there was so much blood slicking my grip - I tried to hold on, but with one final tug, they dragged me off and I tumbled to the dirt. Quickly, I scrambled to my feet.

Those closest me backed away with small shrieks and fearful eyes.

Arianna was the one who'd pulled me off: this surprised me, for I hadn't expected her to have that kind of strength.

But she, too, backed away.

I couldn't name the expression in her eyes, but I knew immediately I didn't like it. Fear, maybe, but something else too. Something I didn't think I could reverse. With that look, reality slammed back into place in one violent crash. The effects left me dizzy and startled. My own actions bewildered me, but somehow I was entirely devoid of regret.

"Someone get a teacher," a student towards the back whispered. "Now."

Another student whirled from the group and bolted towards the school, screaming for help.

I could still taste his blood. I could feel it drying across my face. Glancing back, I saw Derrick cowering, shaking uncontrollably. His forearms resembled hamburger meat.

This would earn me much worse than just a week's detention.

But standing above him, threatening him... I'd seen fear in his eyes.

He knew me, and he felt fear for it. And somehow... I didn't mind that at all.


	10. Chapter 10

r attacking Derrick, I was suspended from school for a month, and also assigned therapy sessions twice a week over that same time period.

Evidently, my therapist was supposed to help me with my 'anger issues,' though I was relatively certain any problems I had did not revolve around a difficulty in controlling my anger. But, I never mentioned what I thought the real problem might be. It would probably just land me in more trouble, and possibly somewhere worse than at home with therapy sessions and no school for a month. In fact, I thought the punishments had been pretty lenient: maybe because I was still the 'new' kid and they assumed I was having difficultly fitting in or something.

As for the therapy sessions... well, I don't think they were all that successful. This could be because I spend more time trying to deceive the therapist than actually being honest and trying to work through my problems. Hey, they were MY problems. Not hers. Anyway, if somebody decided to spend so much time trying to figure me out, I might as well enjoy tricking them for the wasted effort. At least it would amuse me for a bit before I could return to school.

It was a little nice, because I didn't have to worry about Derrick's taunts in the meantime. Unfortunately, this meant I could no longer see Arianna each day. She called once, and I'd talked to her, but that was it.

Of course, we could always meet each other at some point, but from what I had picked up on during the phone conversation... her parents weren't happy with her for hanging out with me. They said I was a bad influence, and Arianna admitted that they wanted her to stop talking to me entirely - not that she had any intention of doing so. It was good that she kept fighting against them: I don't think I could've managed the whole month without at least that phone conversation, and others which I expected to proceed it.

She acted strange on the phone, though. Different; more subdued maybe. I'm guessing it was because what I had done. As much as she wanted to see and talk to me, I expect the attack on Derrick had still unnerved her. She said Derrick hadn't returned to school yet, but as far as she knew, he was fine. Or as fine as he could be.

She didn't talk much about it after that, instead choosing to stick to lighter topics. It made the conversation a little forced, and it ended earlier than I would have liked when her father arrived home and almost caught her talking to me on the phone.

Overall, the worst part of my punishment was not being able to talk to Arianna - that, and boredom. I didn't see my therapist every day, obviously, and therefore had nothing to do most of the time.

Thankfully, two dreadful long weeks into my suspension, Arianna at last convinced her parents to let her hang out with me just once. Or she told them she was going with someone else. I never did figure out which it was. We agreed to meet at the Town's Square around eleven, so of course I left a little early and waited for her.

Town's Square, much like its name suggested, was a square of shops in the very center of town. Everyone came here to do their shopping and to hang out if they were at their houses. The best shops lined the street, all facing inward to the very center, which was a small park with neat green grass and a swing set and slide. Various signs and posters were scattered about the place, advertising countless items between clothes, jewelry, and pets.

The crown of the place was the movie theater, painted a dark blue and sporting huge black doors as the entrance. It was the only three story building in all of Hayashi.

I was staring fixedly at the starry designs on its front when someone tapped my side. "Marx?"

I jumped and turned. "Oh, Arianna! Hey, hey, hey."

She grinned, but it seemed strained to me. "Hi. Err, how are you doing?"

"I'm doing okay; bored a lot though. It's great to see you!"

"That's... nice."

"And you?"

"Alright..."

"Uh. Yeah," I tried to smile. "Just alright?"

"I lied to my parents," she admitted. "I said I was going to meet up with Victoria, but... I've never lied to them before."

I frowned. "You're acting different. Lying isn't all that big."

"It is if you've never done it," she said shortly.

"It's okay, they're not going to find out. You're all good."

"So... what have you been doing?"

"Hanging around mostly," I admitted. "Like I said, it's boring. Makes me almost want to go back to school, even though Derrick's there, and I don't want to see him."

"About that... everyone's been wondering why you did it. I want to know too: it was so abrupt."

"Sorry. I don't really know why I did either, sort of an impulse. Caught in the moment, I guess. Good thing it's over, right?"

Arianna grimaced.

I frowned. "Okay. What's wrong? Something is wrong, I can tell. You're not acting like yourself. You're all quiet-like and serious."

She took a deep breath. "I watched my best friend nearly kill someone. If you expect me to act normal after that, then..." She threw up her hands and sighed. "I don't know, Marx. It was scary, what you did. But I want to help you."

"Help me what?"

"I don't even know. What did he say to you that made you feel so much anger?"

"You said I almost killed him. Is he back at school now?"

"I guess you don't hear much at your house, do you? Yes, he's at school now. He had to go to the hospital, there was so much bleeding. Some of the bandages he's taken off, but most of them probably can't come off for a few more days." She averted her eyes from mine. "He doesn't talk about it, but I think there's scarring."

"Oh." I wasn't sure what to feel about the news. I'd caused him to need to go to the hospital. I hated him, but that was worse than anything he'd ever done to me. He'd never even physically hurt me.

"So, you avoided the question," Arianna pressed. "What did he say to you?"

"He called me fat."

"Marx, be serious."

"I find my weight to be a very serious topic," I nodded convincingly.

"This is coming from the kid who eats oreos and coke for lunch."

"You calling me fat?"

"Marx, stop it!" Arianna exclaimed. "You're evading, and you know it!"

"You were smiling though," I pointed out, getting awkwardly close and opening one eye while squinting the other.

Now it was obvious she was trying not to laugh. She pushed me away and pressed her lips together in an attempt to not let her amusement show. "I'm being serious, Marx. This is not a funny subject."

"Cereal? Where?"

She face-palmed. "You're so crazy."

It took that one word. My entire body tensed. My thoughts shot to a thousand dark and unpleasant places; I felt terrified and vindictive and every fiber of my being resonated with a horrible sensation of wrongness. I shuddered and I needed to get rid of this feeling but NO, this was Arianna: she wasn't actually, she didn't really - no, no, no, calm down... I closed my eyes and willed myself to relax. Just a simple word; overreacting, just Arianna, nothing meant by it-

"Marx, are you okay?"

I felt her paw touch my side and I flinched back violently, my eyes snapping open.

"What happened?" she breathed, "Are you okay? Are you sick?"

The beating of my heart slowed down. I was being stupid. What was wrong with me? Why should I care if Arianna said that? It wasn't like it should bother me or anything; she was just exasperated.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine. All good." I forced a smile.

She shook her head. "No; something's wrong. I know you, Marx."

Not well enough. "I just... just feel a little sick. Maybe I should go home and rest or something."

"So soon? But, we just got here not too long ago! I haven't seen you in nearly two weeks."

"I-I know... I just... I feel really ill." I almost smiled to add conviction to the sentence, then remembered that that would be the wrong expression. "Maybe we can hang out again soon?"

"Tell me," she persisted. "Something happened."

"Newp, nothing! I'm perfectly fine - I mean, aside from the fact I'm sick."

"Fine, Marx. You don't want to tell me, I get it. Just know I'm always here if you need to talk."

"Always," I nodded.

"Though, I think you should apologize to Derrick when you get back to school," she added.

"Apologize?" I stuck out my tongue. "For what?"

Arianna stared at me. "You seriously hurt him! Apologizing is the least you can do."

"Oh. Well, I guess, when I see him again, I can do that," I agreed.

She nodded and looked at me worriedly. "Okay. Good. Well... I guess I'll see you later then. Remember I'm your friend, Marx, and I can help you if you need it."

"Yeah, hey, thanks. I'll definitely do that."


	11. Chapter 11

My first day back to school, I cautiously walked to my seat, sensing Derrick's glare on me like cyanide. The bandages were removed by now, and I glanced at the old wounds. Sure enough, pale scars marched up his wrists and forearms like some kindergartner's disastrous scribble drawing. I found it almost difficult to believe I'd done that. Scars were permanent. They might fade with time, but they never truly went away; Derrick would have that frenzied drawing marked on him for the rest of his life. I remembered what Arianna said about apologizing to him, and I figured she must be right. It'd probably be a little awkward, but I was more than willing to give it a shot.

"Hey Derrick," I whispered.

"Go away, freakshow. I hate you."

I winced. "Please, I just want to talk-"

"I don't wanna hear it."

"I'm sorry for what I did; I didn't even meant to, it just-"

"I said shut it," Derrick growled. He shifted his fingers and I glimpsed a flash of silver. A pocket knife? I jerked back and stared. He'd brought a knife to school? His cold eyes had never looked as serious as they did now. When he spoke, his words were but low threats. "You only attacked because every word I said was true. I'm the only one who sees what a monster you are. I can't believe they even let you back into school. If you want to apologize, meet me by the lake after school." He tucked the weapon back into his pocket and turned away.

My own gaze returned stiffly to the front and stared at the chalkboard without really seeing it at all.

I wasn't a monster or anything. I needed to meet him after school. I had to apologize. That was what Arianna said I needed to do. It was morally right. It was good and all. I had to apologize. Had to apologize.

I hardly paid any attention to school the rest of the day. The whole deal with Derrick made me too nervous to focus, and when the final bell rang, I felt both relieved and anxious.

As I left the building, I spotted Arianna waiting for me at our usual meeting place by an old oak tree. I contemplated telling her I'd be a few minutes, but decided against it. She'd just try to follow me. So, I headed down to the lake by myself, slipping down the banks and trudging through the snow.

Derrick was there - but he wasn't alone. Kai and May, his two closest friends {Yaban and Yariko, respectively}, flanked him. I slowed, then stopped entirely. A sense of foreboding rose in my throat, a nameless trepidation. Maybe it was just an illusion; the way Derrick's navy blue hat seemed to shade his eyes, or how Kai and May's scarves wrapped around their mouths like criminal masks.

"Hey, hey..." I said uneasily.

"What are you waiting for? I thought you came to talk, right?" Derrick demanded.

"I thought you were going to be alone..."

Derrick shrugged. "You never said I had to be. What was it you wanted to say to me?"

Well, at least he was listening, but I wasn't exactly comfortable with all three of their stares bearing down on me.

"I just..." I swallowed and tried again. "I mean to say, I didn't intend to hurt you or anything. I don't like you or anything, but it wasn't right of me to attack you anyway. So... I'm sorry." Sometimes I wished I could be more eloquent. It didn't really seem like the sort of apology Arianna would hope for.

"Hm. But you did attack me," Derrick pointed out. "An eye for an eye, I say. That's fair, right?"

My heart began to race. This wasn't right. Not right at all. "N-not fair," I said. "I apologized; I won't do anything like it ever again, I promise, if you'd just forgive me."

"But remember," Derrick replied, "You're crazy. How can we trust anything you say?"

I whimpered. "W-what? I'm not crazy, I swear." Having lost the argument with Derrick, I turned to his friends. "Right? You know I'm not, Kai? May? I mean, it was mistake - there's nothing wrong with making mistakes. I learned from it; I'm not - don't - you don't think he's right, do you?"

Kai shrank back, but May snorted. "Derrick, if you're going to do anything, do it now. Seriously, watching this guy is pitiful."

"It's just a lesson," Derrick told me. "Of what happens if you try to attack me again."

I tried to back away, but Derrick's hand lashed out and clamped down on my hat. He dragged me to the edge of the water. I saw the still surface, almost perfectly reflecting the chilly blue sky and my panicked purple eyes. Behind me, Derrick, his own eyes narrowed in hate and traces of fear. Ice ringed the lake. A warm spell a few days ago had melted the middle and left chunks floating.

Then, he shoved me into the water.

Cold, cold, cold; it was like thousands of frozen needles driving under my skin. I could feel the temperature even beneath my flesh: the kind of cold where your head immediately begins to ache with it, and the only thing you can think of is getting out; getting warm. Focused solely upon the shore, I broke the surface and drew in one huge, painful breath of winter air. Luckily - if any sort of luck played into this - I was already beside the shore. I swam over clumsily, for not only did I have little experience with swimming, but my muscles were seizing up in protest.

I scrambled halfway up on the bank; one foot out of the water, the other still dangling in the lake. No energy to climb all the way. Needed to just breath - cold everywhere. The ends of my hat, now soaked, slicked down my back and sent violent shivers up my spine.

My teeth chattered and body shuddered. Eyes anxiously curved up when a shadow fell across me.

Two rough hands grabbed me again; blessed warmth, for only a moment, then Derrick shoved me beneath the surface again. Blind panic seized me. He wasn't letting go - wasn't letting go. I tried not to scream; already too little precious was left, but terror overruled logic. I writhed, kicked, and twisted, fangs bared in a silent scream. Everything in me howled to escape, but I couldn't. The terror was like a physical pressure building beneath my skin -

Out, out, out - freezing, couldn't breath, couldn't -

Derrick's hand slipped; I arced in the water and sank my teeth into his fingers. Both hands snapped back. I was free! I surged to the surface, but no sooner had I reached it, before I could drag any more than a tiny gulp of air in my lungs, that those hands angrily pushed and held me under again.

Despite my thrashing protests, he wasn't giving up this time; his fingers practically dug into my sides, but it was the least of my concerns. I was much more preoccupied with the fact I couldn't breath under water - and there was no way I could hold my breath any longer. I gasped involuntarily. Icy water flooded into my lungs. It stung and seared, ripping at my insides like poison. When I tried to scream again, I gagged on the burning liquid. Oh god, it ached - how long did it take for that pain to end, how long before an oxygen-deprived body surrendered to that liquid coldness?

I choked and spat it out again but my body needed air more than my mind rejected water.

Then something dragged me back to the surface, back to the world of the living, onto the bank.

I heard Kai and May speak, but their concerned words made no sense to me. I still couldn't breathe; my lungs were full of water, body shaking uncontrollably. I gagged and shuddered, knowing I needed to get the water out, needed to breath. To no avail: though water dribbled from my lips, air refused to draw in. A hand slammed against my back, timed with a cough. At last, with a violent heave, I vomited out more water than I imagined could fit in my lungs.

I drew in a full breath of precious air, only to have it burn fiercely on my raw throat. I realized I was crying. Crying and gagging, and sipping in short pained breaths because as much as it burned, it was the air of life.

Very slowly, senses other than pain returned to me. The unbearable cold, for one. My very soul seemed to be shaking as though every part of me, physical and not, was infected with it. Then, their voices.

Kai, "Shit, I told you, you went too far man."

"Shut up! Let me think... Hey, Marx!" There was no energy left to resist. Breathing alone was an agony, and surely I was in danger of freezing to death. Already blessed warmth was beginning to seep into my body: the first stages of hypothermia.

My reaction seemed to actually worry Derrick. He leaned forward and looked into my eyes. "Hey, Marx, man, we were just playing."

"Idiot!" Kai swore. "I thought you were just gunna scare him, not half-drown him!"

Derrick snapped back, "He's not drowned!"

"He'll be dead if he doesn't get warm soon," May cut in.

"Shit! I'm not going to be responsible for his death." He unwrapped his own scarf, fingers fumbling with the material, then loosely tied it around my own body. "C'mon, freakshow, you're alright," he urged, patting my head. I flinched with each pat. Dark spots began to appear in my vision.

"We gotta get out of here," Kai said. "What if someone catches us?"

Derrick swore to himself. "He's going to freeze..."

"You said he wasn't gunna get really hurt!" Kai snarled.

"I didn't think-"

"Someone's coming," May breathed in horror. "They can find him - let's get outta here!" The three turned tail and bolted. I hardly registered the change. My head lowered lethargically between my feet, mouth hanging open to pull in acid air. I didn't even notice I was panting, or trembling with hysterical fervency.

I heard a familiar voice shrieking my name, but the sound came through a distant tunnel. All consciousness came to a shuddering halt; I collapsed onto the snow.


	12. Chapter 12

I woke to find myself in a bed with clean white sheets. I imagined an icy chill that still lingered, though my skin was warm. It was one of those things where you remember the very moment you wake up what happened. Every horrifying detail.

I sat up weakly, my muscles practically screaming in protest. Unfortunately, it was breathing that was the worst. Simply drawing in air stung like acrid poison. For a few moments I simply sat, eyes closed, focusing on a slow in and out pattern.

"You're awake," a gentle voice suddenly exclaimed. Someone rushed to my side. "Marx, can you hear me? Are you okay?"

I squinted one eye open. Arianna stood anxiously at the side of my bed. Behind her I could see the plain white wall, other beds lined up too. The hospital...

"Should I call a nurse?" she asked worriedly.

I tried to reply, "I'm fine," but the words came out harsh and painful and I cut off with a wince. I shook my head no.

"Are you sure?"

I nodded. Had that been her, before I'd fallen unconscious? What had she told the nurses? Panic seized me. Did she tell them what had happened? Did she say Derrick did it?

Could I... was that... I groaned and laid back down. It took too much energy to sit up. How long had I been out?

Arianna leaned closer to me and put a paw on my side. "Listen, Marx, it was Derrick wasn't it? Him and his friends?"

I shuddered and turned away. No, didn't want to think about it. Stupid attempt, really. I couldn't NOT think about it. It was burned in my mind like a brand. Fresh and sore.

"I saw them leaving, and the footprints," Arianna continued.

"What-" I cringed and squirmed. It hurt to speak. Like swallowing fire.

Arianna misunderstood my question. "I heard you screaming," she admitted. "I... I came running, but I came far too late." Her eyes were frighteningly sincere; just like a book I could read them; sadness, pity, horror, sympathy, another emotion I couldn't place. Her voice dwindled to an urgent whisper. "Marx, you have to tell someone; they can't get away with this."

"You didn't-?" I mouthed.

She shook her head. Guilt in her eyes. I could see it. "I told them you fell in. I wasn't sure..."

I nodded. "F-fine," I forced out. No one else needed to know.

"What?" she whispered. "But, they hurt you! I need to tell the nurses, or someone... They can't just get away with this."

"No!" I cringed and mouthed a silent cry. Hated this pain. Hated the ruined syllables that were pushed from my throat. Hated. She needed to know though. "You... won't tell anyone," I rasped. "Accident. Not a soul."

"N-no, they-"

"Not a soul!"

"M-Marx, I have to tell someone! This isn't just some small thing - what if you were really hurt? What if you..."

I glared as fiercely as I could muster in my weak state. "Not... a... soul..."

I hated her painful look too. But it couldn't be helped. No one could know. I wouldn't let anyone know. It was just an accident. Marx wasn't hurt; he'd never been attacked like that, or so easily overwhelmed - so easily made powerless and weak. He'd never been under that freezing water.


	13. Chapter 13

I made her swear to say nothing. Nobody had to know but me, her, and Derrick. Fortunately, the nurses and my foster parents all believed I had simply fallen in and couldn't swim, but Arianna rescued me. They all said she was really brave for it, and I felt glad she was getting good attention like that. She didn't like it much though; I could see she still wanted to tell the truth.

Less fortunately... it meant I would have to return to school and act like nothing had happened. Act like it was just some accident. The following days in the hospital were relief: I didn't even have to get up from the bed and I received some letters from my classes and teachers. Most of them just signed their names without comment, and I had a feeling they wouldn't have done anything unless the teacher made them. Even Derrick's name was on the card. But it was still a little nice to pretend they cared for a bit.

Then I had to return home, because there was nothing else technically wrong with me: the raw tissue in my lungs and throat pretty much healed, so I could finally talk without pain. They told me I was lucky to avoid hypothermia, and lucky to have Arianna there. Told me I was lucky.

Another day at home, because my parents didn't want me to have to go to school in the cold quite yet. I was relieved, but I felt like the suspense just made it worse - and if I missed many more days of school, I might be held back a grade and stick out even worse.

Then I had school the following day. A sickening dread settled in the pit of my stomach. It was cold and slimy and had me tensed up from the moment I woke up. I left the house before my foster parents could get up so I wouldn't have to talk to anyone. I think the only thing that kept me from vomiting outright was my teeth clenched together and an enormous exercise of self control.

Oh god, I felt physically sick. Entering the classroom, I knew immediately. I didn't even have to look. He was there.

Of course, I scolded myself. Why wouldn't he be? He simply sat at his desk, casual. What kind of person could act so nonchalant after what had happened? People were monsters.

But I was so afraid. Soundlessly, I padded closer to my desk. His eyes followed me, I swear they did.

I never once looked his way, and climbed into my desk without a word. Just ignore him. He wasn't there. This was just school, I was going to be okay. Why couldn't Arianna be in this class? Why? I really needed her right now. Really really really badly.

I don't think I got one thing the teacher said when class started; everything else was so distant, but I was acutely aware of every tiny detail regarding the figure beside me. His breathing, the way he sometimes shifted in his chair, every movement.

More than once I instinctively flinched, thinking one of those hands was reaching over my way. It was ridiculous, I told myself; why should I be this scared? It was just some small thing at the lake - maybe I had brushed pretty close to death, but... it shouldn't be the cause for this unreasonable fear. Problem was, logic didn't quite overrule emotions.

I hated it. Hate hate HATE this feeling; this fear, disgusting, terrible... I was practically drowning in it the same way I was in the lake. I didn't know how much longer I could bear it.

He leaned over, whispered, "Hey, freakshow."

I didn't move, didn't look. Couldn't.

"What, can't look at me? You scared of me, is that it? You should be."

I bit my bottom lip and felt my fangs sink into the soft flesh, but hardly noticed.

"Surprised to see you, alive."

"You couldn't kill me," I said automatically. Wait, where had that come from, I hadn't meant to say...

"What was that?" he growled under his breath.

I went back to my biting my lip. Newp, not going to reply.

"Hey, you listen to me when I'm talking. Why did you say I couldn't kill you? It's by my mercy alone that's why you're alive at all."

I couldn't not reply. "I mean that... you aren't capable of killing someone. Not even me," I whispered back. My eyes still remained glued to the chalkboard up ahead. Somehow I was assured in telling the truth. Not enough to elaborate, though. Not enough to not be afraid. Was it because I knew he couldn't kill me? He could just really hurt me...

"You're not a person," he hissed back. "You're just a thing; different from everyone else. Haven't you realized it? It doesn't help that you're crazy either. You just got the short end of the stick."

There it was again, that word he kept whispering. They said it a lot in the hallways, in classes under their breaths. I heard it. I knew it.

"I'm not crazy."

Derrick was the only one who would say it to my face, but I couldn't figure out which alternative was worse: knowing people were talking about me, or being outright confronted about it.

"Why's that bug you so much, huh, freakshow?"

How could the teacher not notice this? I knew from past experiences that telling on him was only counterproductive, so I just stayed in my seat and tried to ignore it.

From my peripheral vision, I saw him stretch his arms high above his head and exaggerate a yawn. He was mocking my lack of said appendages. Great.

Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it... The mantra seemed to work alright: mentally, I added a beat to it {ig-nor-it-ig-nor-it-ig-nor-it} and thus was able to distract myself from Derrick.

Then there was something cold against my side - No! Freezing water, cold, drowning, couldn't breath - I let out a shriek and shot off my seat so quickly that both I and the entire desk toppled over and crashed to the floor.

No, in the classroom; wasn't at the lake, but then how-?

Ah. My eyes narrowed, though I was still trying to steady my breathing from the shock.

Derrick sneered down at me. A water bottle filled only with ice sat 'innocently' on his desk.

I should have known. I guess I didn't expect him to go that far, after he'd seen how much he'd already gotten to me. Somehow, I knew now... this wouldn't be the end of it.


	14. Chapter 14

Today we had a lesson about fear. It was little coincidental, and made me wonder if Arianna had nonchalantly suggested it to the teacher without mentioning her reasoning for it. It wouldn't surprise me; plus, our curriculum was so loose I figured a teacher would probably take a student's advice.

Anyway, we talked about different kinds of phobias and the basis of fear, as well as stressing the importance of overcoming personal fears. Most of the stuff the teacher didn't seem to have the remotest idea what he was talking about, but the part about conquering fear... That stuck with me. I liked the sound of it.

I wanted to conquer MY fear; didn't want to be afraid any longer. The fear had become ingrained in myself even though I couldn't understand WHY exactly: I should be able to recover, I should be able to handle it - but I couldn't.

Every time I saw the lake, I thought about it. The memories came back vicious and fresh. I hated myself for it. Every time I passed Derrick, I shrank away and averted my eyes against my own will.

The clutches of terror had sunk their claws into me, and as much as I hated it and myself, I couldn't tear away from it. I'd almost been killed, and I couldn't just get over it.

I needed a way to conquer my fear, but I didn't know how to do that. I couldn't even narrow down the fear to one thing: I was nervous around the lake, and I hated not being in control, and I feared Derrick. But those were all different elements - would I have to conquer each separately?

No... I needed them all together somehow. Conquer them at their worst. At my worst. At my best.

I only had to figure out how to overcome them altogether, but no ideas seemed like they would work, and as the days passed I grew more and more desperate. I always felt on edge; tense and nervous almost all the time. Some nameless anxiety, both fear and a strange kind of anticipation, had taken hold of me. My heart beat faster than normal, and sitting calmly in class got harder and harder.

I needed to do something about it, and I could only assume the best thing would be to relieve my fear and pull myself out of this worrisome state.

Nearly two weeks passed like this; each one more unbearable than the last. Arianna could tell something was wrong, but thankfully she didn't really press the topic. She could probably tell I had no intention of talking about it anyway...

It was the weekend once more, and I leaned against one of the trees by the lake. It looked like I was simply stopping for a rest to a casual person passing by, but in reality I was watching the lake. Watched a dee walking by the shore; some kid from my school that I'd seen before but never spoken too.

And I realized just how I could conquer my fear.

It was directly linked to the lake; each particular sensation I relived in my nightmares and memories involved something with the cold, suffocating water beneath the ice. I knew the lake as the place where I'd nearly drowned; every time I saw it, I was reminded. So maybe, I just needed to change my perception of it! I needed something emotionally charged enough to override my fear!

Grinning, I leapt up and trotted down to the lakeside.

"Hey, hey, hey," I greeted the dee. He was a kid from my school; either in my grade or the one below it, I couldn't really remember.

He gave me a dubious glance. "Uh, hi."

"What's down?" I smiled cordially and walked beside him.

"...Nothing much." He sidled to the side a little. "Um, no offense, but why are you talking to me?"

I lowered my eyes. "Should I not?"

"... It's just, really random."

"And I'm Marx." I nodded. "I know what you mean."

He was silent; pondering. At least he didn't try to deny it. I kind of liked this guy.

"I guess I get kind of lonely," I said. "You were by yourself, so I thought maybe you were lonely too."

"A bit," he admitted. He seemed to feel as if he'd said quite enough, because he suddenly stopped and looked away.

Lonely, eh? But he was friends with many of the kids in the school, it seemed. How close of friends, though? "You have friends, though," I pressed, acting ignorant. "Why not be with them? It's empty here."

He peered at me oddly. "Empty?"

I shrugged with one foot. Had that been confusing? "Big frozen lake. Empty..." I frowned. Bad description. "No people, no..."

"It's okay," the dee said, lifting one hand to stop me with a miniscule smile. "I think I get what you mean."

"Yes." I grinned. "Lonely and empty."

He nodded. "I just sometimes wonder..." he broke off again. "Nevermind, it doesn't really matter."

"You can tell me," I encouraged.

He eyed me unsurely. "Why do you care? You're just Marx. People... say things about you," the dee said worriedly, sidling away from me a little. "You're different. They say..." he cut off, as if worried about offending me.

"I understand," I replied, letting a melancholy tone enter my voice. I peered dejectedly down at the water. We were near that place. Let him believe my shudder was from the conversation we were having.

"You seem nice though," he added hurriedly. "I've seen you before in the hallways and walking with Arianna; I don't really think what they say is true."

"Yeah..." I drifted off and turned away a bit. Was this being too dramatic? Not enough? I didn't want to be obvious. Maybe I'd back off a bit; if he tried to call me back, I'd know it was working, if he didn't, I would think it through better and try something different.

"Well, thanks for talking to me anyway," I said. "Not many people do. I'll leave you alone now." I turned and began to slowly walk away, back hunched. One foot after another.

It took him nearly twenty steps, then, "Marx, wait! Maybe... maybe it's fine if we just hang out this time. Nobody is here really."

A wild savage grin jumped onto my face. Gotcha. Then it was gone, carefully replaced by one of innocent hope. I turned back.

"Really?"

"S-sure." He poked his hands together dubiously and looked at the ground. "I mean, you won't tell anyone, will you? I don't want anyone to think we're fr- I mean, that -"

"It's okay," I hurriedly cut in. "I won't tell anyone. I know I'm not all that 'cool' or anything. If YOU don't tell anyone, nobody has to know we're friends."

"And if someone does find out we hung out, can I say I was being mean to you? No hard feelings?"

No one will see. "No hard feelings." I smiled. "Wow, thanks! I'm glad we can get along. So, what's your name anyway?"

"Andrew."

"Hi! What were you going to say?"

I trotted back to him, but the uncertainty had returned.

"It's not really fair of me to say it..." he trailed off.

"Who am I going to tell?" I pointed out.

"Okay..." he scuffed a foot in the snow. "Sometimes I just wonder, if we're really accomplishing anything... you know. Are we... actually achieving anything? My parents and grandparents and great grandparents have all lived in this small town their entire lives. It doesn't seem like anyone ever leaves. And rarely do new people come; you're the first new kid for years." He sighed. "I wonder... what it's like beyond this town. There must be such different places to go to. But, I don't think I'll ever leave."

"That's understandable," I replied. "Like... always longing for something, even when you don't know what it is. Wanting something new but never able to escape the old." I hope I got that right. It sounded right.

"Yeah." Andrew looked at me in surprise. "That's exactly what I was thinking. And it doesn't seem like anyone else feels the same way. All my friends are so happy doing nothing."

"Maybe there is a chance for something more. You can achieve more. Escape this place."

He shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not."

"I'll think of ideas," I assured him. "We can't be stuck here forever."

"You want to leave too?"

"I feel like I will at some point," I nodded. "Like fate or something! Destiny. I'm not meant to stay here."

"What do you feel like you're meant to do?" he inquired, studying me thoughtfully.

"I have... contradictory opinions. Something fun, I hope."

He rolled his eyes. "I was hoping for something more dramatic. No saving the universe, or ending world hunger?"

I chuckled and struck a dramatic pose. "Yes, that's Marx: saviour of the world, famous ender of world hunger!"

"Sounds alright," he shrugged. "You're really random, y'know."

"I know. Heyyy, I have to go. Maybe we can talk again?"

"Don't see why not," he said. "Just don't forget the conditions: If anyone thinks we're friends, I can tell them I was just making fun of you."

"Alrighty, that's a-okay. Maybe we can meet... Hmmm... How about next Saturday, right here? Same time"

He returned the smile shyly. "No problem. Sure, I'll be there. See you then."

I headed back home alone, but with a very optimistic view for what was to come... It was probably a good thing my new 'friend' didn't hear my laughter then.


	15. Chapter 15

The next day, Andrew and I didn't even acknowledge each others' existences. It was exactly as I'd hoped: he didn't want people thinking he hung out with the freaky kid. I myself was so caught up in both excitement for Saturday and my plans for that day, that I hardly was mentally present enough to be afraid of Derrick. I assumed that this surprising lack of fear could be attributed to my decision to conquer it in the first place.

It was like... now that I actually had a goal, a resolution, to do something about it, I was already feeling more confident about myself. Andrew truly would act as the key to enable me to return to my normal relatively stress-free life. I would have to remember to thank him on Saturday - he wouldn't really understand if I thanked him before then, after all. Anyway, I couldn't worry him. He might not show up at the lake, then I'd have to find and befriend someone else, which wasn't something I really wanted to do. It was simply unnecessary work.

Though of course, there was some necessary work. Being on slightly better-than-neutral terms with Andrew was just the first step.

Secondly, I'd need a rope. Problem was, I didn't have any money. When I raided my house for money that afternoon, I couldn't find even a dime. Next, I tried to ask my foster mother: she asked too many questions, so I told her I just wanted to buy candy. It was a reasonable excuse for me, but she told me something about learning responsibility and earning money.

My excuse just wasn't good enough, I decided. A better one would be to say I was getting a gift for someone.

Unfortunately, by the time I resolved to ask my foster dad, he'd already spoken to her and told me the same thing.

Defeated, I headed to a small store without even the slightest amount of money. A little bell clanged over the doorway as I entered.

It truly was a small store: only one story and built of old wooden planks. Shelves lined the walls, overflowing with an assortment of objects, and gave the place both a homely and yet crowded atmosphere. The store sat at the very outskirts of Hayashi town, and people rarely came here. {A much larger store was located in the Town Square, after all.}

An old wizened puffball with pale yellow skin and angel-like wings was sorting ancient books by one of the shelves.

As I expected, he, the shopkeeper, was the only other person in the store.

"Welcome," the old man rasped in a voice ill-accustomed to speaking. His foggy blue eyes studied me curiously. "Few people come; for but a moment, I imagined you a ghost."

"Nope, just me. Is it really that rare to see customers?" I said, not without a hint of nervousness. I didn't want to be THAT memorable - though this option was still better than the Town's Square.

"The time escapes me; this forgetfulness comes with my age." The aged puffball went back to sorting books. He didn't seem to feel the need to uphold the typical etiquette of looking at someone while speaking. He didn't even seem interested in selling his merchandise: he let me peruse as I pleased. I decided I liked him. "Though," he continued. "A change from the quiet is appreciated. Stay as long as you see fit."

"Sure, thanks." I wandered disinterestedly to the shelves, glancing at the collections of things he had. Little trinkets, currency from another country, rat... poison? Small hand carved sculptures of various animals, old skeleton keys... This wasn't exactly what I had in mind. Most of it was small aged items; collectables and such. I'd thought the store was more of a general type.

It struck me that I was being quieter than normal. It must be the air about the place. It seemed to demanded respectful silence. Still, it was somewhat unnerving. "I'm Marx, by the way. Do you happen to have a rope?"

"Rope? Hmm..." The puffball rubbed his chin, faded blue eyes studying me again. I shifted nervously. Those eyes were downright creepy. He had this manner of looking at me... like he was searching my soul or something.

"Yeah," I said. Anything to break the silence. "Y'know; few feet long maybe, tie up stuff?"

"You are indeed a strange one," the shopkeeper nodded, seemingly to himself, "Inquiring about a rope, but this is hardly a place to get one. Don't you know of the store in town?"

"They were too expensive," I lied.

"Hmm... Perhaps, I have a rope, but what use would you have for it?"

"It's for a school project."

"What sort of project?" He just seemed curious, but I didn't exactly appreciate the questions.

"I'm... building a catapult." I'd read about catapults before. I was pretty sure they had ropes...

The old shopkeepers eyes lit up. "A catapult? Ah, haven't seen one of those in many a year..."

Seen? I turned to him, suddenly more curious in my alleged school project. "You've seen a catapult? Like, not from a book?"

He nodded, a distant look to his eyes. "Indeed, I have. Do you know of the war? Few here do..."

"Of course," I said indignantly. "The War of Suretoga, The War of the Mekkai Elites, Battles at Belri..." I trailed off. "You were meaning one of those, right?" His expression told differently.

"You know of old wars, son."

I twitched. "I just read about them; there's hasn't been one past... past ...The Battle at Tekwork. And you're not my father - don't say that."

"No offense intended; I assure you I won't say it again. But... you are wrong, Mark. There has been a war since then."

"Marx," I corrected. "What war? I haven't heard of another one."

"Ah, but there is," the old puffball murmured.

"Liar."

"Am I? Wait here," he said with a gentle smile. He turned and shuffled to a back room. I sighed and rolled my eyes. A few moments passed, and I considered leaving. Then, he came slowly back, a long piece of old wood held in his hands, with the reverence of a sacred artifact.

He held it out so I could see it: dark, curved wood attached at either end by a thick string. The middle was outfitted with a band of silver. A bow.

"Ignebane," he said. "A simple bow, but my trusted weapon in the war against Nightmare. A very real war indeed."

"Nightmare?" I echoed.

He nodded solemnly. "We Viratica called him the Emperor of Darkness, for his command over evil and darkness."

"Emperor of Darkness?" I snorted. "Nightmare. Is this a fairy tale?"

"One would wish. I am from an ancient race: the Viratica. We were a proud and independent race, thriving on our planet as the sole sentient species. It was the height of our success when an unknown virus broke out. Indeed, no one knew how to cure an ill subject, or how to avoid getting it. As such it soon spread across countries. Many good warriors were slain by this disease... I was but a boy like you when it reached my province." His old voice faded out, foggy blue eyes recalling the distant memory. I wasn't even sure if he remembered I was there, but soon he continued,

"Fear is a powerful thing... Folks fell ill; those still healthy feared they would be infected and fled. Some remained to tend the sick, yet those soon were caught with it too. Chaos broke out, and war between whom would do what in the dire circumstances. Whether the virus and resulting war brought Nightmare, or Nightmare sent the virus, we will never know. Demons laid siege to our planet for many long dark years; I was among the few able to slip past their defenses and escape... leaving my family behind..."

He cleared his throat and began again. "On foreign planets I learned of a rebellious sect of warriors resisting Nightmare's forces. All were welcome to join - it truly was a multi-galactic army, though the title 'GSA' had not yet been coined. I fought among them hundreds of years, witnessing much of Nightmare's terrible reign, until we were completely obliterated. This was when the then young general Sir Arthur rose up from the ashes and formed the Galaxy Soldier Army. I fought under him, but then I'm afraid I was anything but young... Now, well," he chuckled good-naturedly. "Retired and happy. I expect the war is still raging... but there is nothing more I can do, and I've heard little news of it."

"So... this army is still fighting?"I said slowly, "I mean, Nightmare's not dead?"

"I would think not."

"Why doesn't anyone know about it? There's... there's a war, and nobody's doing anything!"

"They do say ignorance is bliss."

"B-but shouldn't we, y'know, care?"

He nodded sadly. "We should. I do. I see you do. But we cannot convince those who don't want to know. I can, however, help those that do wish to take initiative. That perhaps want to participate in the war effort."

It took me a moment to realize what he meant.

"M-me?" I chuckled. "No, I can't fight in a war."

"You can't?"

"Well, no... I mean..."

"You are under legal age now," the shopkeeper admitted, "yet in a couple years, I imagine you'd be eligible."

I wanted to. It'd be perfect, really. I could even bear to stay in Hayashi for a few more years if I knew that I'd be leaving for war at some point. It was ideal; I could handle those sort of grotesque situations other people would be sick at easily. It didn't affect me so much, or at least I didn't think it would. And war would mean... but no...

"I still can't though," I said, hopes falling. "I can't wield a bow, like you, or even a sword, or axe..."

"Hm." Before I could react, the bow cracked down on top of my head.

"Hey!" I bared my fangs angrily. "What was that for?"

His response was to hit me again with the bow - which was not comfortable, by the way. "Stop it," I growled. What was wrong with this guy? I wasn't going to put up with this crap!

The next time the bow descended, I snatched it in my teeth and angrily ripped it from his hands. I spit the weapon to the side and glared.

The old shopkeeper just smiled. "You can defend yourself."

"Pfff, because you were attacking me! I'm just protecting myself."

"In war, I imagine people do attack you."

"It's different," I argued. "That doesn't mean I can fight, just defend myself."

He raised an eyebrow at me.

"...You really think I could fight?" I murmured.

"Of course! The question is if you wish to or not. War is not pleasant, nor easy, nor pretty."

"B-but it doesn't have to be pretty or anything," I rushed. "War is - well - bad, but the GSA - they're good. I could invest all my energy and intellect into the war - I'd probably be too focused on that to... All my time for their purpose, do you see? I'd fight the evil - wouldn't have to worry about this, Marx wouldn't have to -" I cut off. Too much.

The shopkeeper looked at me oddly. He cleared his throat. "Certainly, I can see if a recruiter is located in any nearby towns."

"Would you? I don't mean to intrude, or..."

"It is no burden at all to me. A relief, almost, to know I could tell you of the dreadful war... Though you are so young... Aye, but a few years and you'll be good to fight. A recruiter may just assess your eligibility. Why don't you return, say, tomorrow?"

"How will you find someone so quick?" I asked, suspicious.

The old shopkeeper smiled gently. His wings spread at his sides. "Fly, of course. Likely a larger town will have more recent news."

"You can fly?"

"Did you think I did not have that ability?"

I frowned indignantly. "I've never seen someone who could fly. I mean, you do have wings, but… I'm just surprised, is all."

He nodded slowly in response. It seemed he did everything a little slower than everyone else, but not in a bad way. More like he had no reason to rush. "You would not have seen a winged warrior, being so young. They were once very common, but now? No, it would seem I am one of the few still remaining. It would be good to know what has become of the rest of my ancient race, yet, I think I'm quite too old to be traveling the galaxies in search of them. Perhaps, somewhere, there is a whole new generation. Perhaps I am the only one left. I digress: it's here I am content."

"Uh, right. Well, why did you come here? If you've been through all these battles and seen so much exciting stuff, wouldn't you want to be somewhere... I dunno, less boring than Hayashi? I mean, no one even knows who you are! All you do is run this little shop, and I bet you don't even make much from it. But… you're a war hero! Don't you want to be known? Don't you want to have a… less dull lifestyle?"

The shopkeeper gave me a very stern look. "There are no war heroes, Marx. We were men put in a bad situation. We were defending our people above our lives, and many paid that price." His expression gentled. "There is no where else I would like to be but my shop."

"But… it's kinda boring."

He replied cheerfully, "on the contrary, I rather like it. Peaceful, serene… filled with gentle light and memories of the past. Nearly all these artifacts are things I have collected in my lifetime; you could say I was quite the pack rat. Now anyone can choose to buy, even if they don't understand the worth. I have seen much, yes… But war scenes and adventure and excitement are not things I seek – nor even recognition. I am merely a simple old man with many tales. Quite content in my home."

"That doesn't make any sense to me," I told him.

"Besides, I get the most unusual customers who will listen to my ramblings," he chuckled, going back to dusting off the shelves.

"You're unusual; you don't have any right to call me unusual," I snapped back.

He nodded. "Yes, I'm unusual, aren't I?"

"… yes, yes you are."

"Indeed."

"You also look like you missed your grave about hundred years ago."

"I look that old? My, how the years fly."

I stared. This was one weird old man. "Sorry," I said. "I actually do like you.'

"Yes, I'm glad you visited as well. Company is not such a bad thing in small doses, and you are an interesting person to talk to."

I shifted on my feet, hunting for words. Maybe this was good enough. He'd told me a lot about the war, and my mind was still on that. "So, when will...? I mean, when should I-"

"Come back tomorrow," the shopkeeper smiled. "As I said. Perhaps I will have news."

"Oh, alright."

I watched him pick up another small trinket and appraise it fondly. His bow was still on the ground by his feet. After how nicely he'd brought it in, I found it a little strange for him to just leave it there. Then I remembered how I'd unkindly ripped it out of his hands.

But he didn't seem to mind. Surely I could've damaged the weapon? I padded over and observed the fine wood. It must've been stronger than it looked, because I couldn't spot any teeth marks. Still, it was just laying on the floor.

I glanced up at the shopkeeper, but he was busy perusing his collection.

Silently, I picked up the bow again and set it gently on one of the shelves.

I didn't want to interrupt him, and I felt somehow the conversation was finished. I smiled slightly. Maybe it would be better to leave him alone now. I could thank him tomorrow. I left the shop quietly and closed the door softly behind me. I didn't even realize that I didn't have a rope with me until I was halfway home. But then I reasoned that if this war thing worked out okay, I wouldn't really need one. And besides, walking all the way back to the store and then home would surely take too long.


	16. Chapter 16

The rest of the week went well... Until Friday, that is.

I returned to the store just as the old shopkeeper had told me, and he happily told me that a recruiter was actually located at a nearby town. He said he'd never actually spoken to them, but a friend assured him the recruiter would be able to come to Hayashi. She'd be at the store on Friday, so after school I was supposed to come too. The shopkeeper told me that she wouldn't be able to recruit me immediately because of my age, but she could get some good words in for the higher-ups when I did come of age.

Naturally, I returned to the store on Friday after a whole week of anticipating.

I opened the door and was met with arguing voices; one I recognized at the shopkeeper's low rasp, the other was a sharp, fierce female voice. They were coming from the back room, so I didn't think either was aware I entered yet.

Quietly, I shut the door and padded closer to the closed door. Listening.

"-never actually part of the army." That was the woman...

"Then how would you know?" The shopkeeper responded. He sounded angry; something I hadn't ever heard him like.

She sighed. "It's my job, it's what I do. And because I'm devoted to my job, I came all the way out here thinking it was a Star Warrior you were referring to! If I had known he wasn't..."

Belligerent silence answered her.

"Ugh. Whatever. You're such a stubborn old man. I'll interview the damn kid, but don't be expecting miracles. Only Star Warriors get special favors."

I decided now might be the time to show I was here, since they seemed to be finishing up. I kicked the door once, hard. "Hello?"

The door cracked open and the shopkeeper peered through. "Ah, hello, there you are."

"Hey hey hey," I greeted. "Uh, is there a problem?"

The shopkeeper muttered, "Slightly."

He opened the door wide and let me in. A tall light green puffball stood at the opposite side of the room. Her sharp pink eyes studied me distastefully. "Hi."

"Hello... are you the person who recruits soldiers?"

"One of them. I guess you're the kid who wants to join the military?"

"Yup. So, uh... what do you want me to do?"

"I'll just ask some questions first... name?" She sighed.

"Marx," I replied cheerfully. "I don't know my last name. But Marx is enough, right?"

"Sure, yeah. Age?"

"Six sweeps."

"You must be at least nine sweeps to join the military, don't you know that?"

"Well, yeah, but I was thinking I could join in a few years..."

"Oh yeah, I think the old man said something like that. Okay. Your race?"

"I'm... err... I'm... I don't know my race..."

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you have any talents?"

"Uhm... I'm really smart, and I have good balance. I'm good at thinking on my feet." I decided to leave out that I was good at lying.

"Talents that would be useful to the army..." she prodded rudely.

I nibbled on my lip. "Mm... well, I can learn to fight. I'm sure I'd be good at it, with some training. I have good reflexes, and uh, defense. If I'm being attacked, I mean." My eyes flicked to the shopkeeper.

"Riiight. And I take it you can't wield any kind of weapon?"

"Well, not like you do, but-"

"Ma'am," the shopkeeper interrupted. "I myself am a war veteran; I fought alongside soldiers such as him, with only feet. It was never a problem for them; they were quite accomplished warriors."

"It's not unheard of," the woman rolled her eyes. "but those were probably Star Warriors. Y'know, inborn talent."

"He doesn't know of his race; for all we know, he could be a Star Warrior. If not, it is possible to train-"

"Star Warriors all have Warp Stars," she recited in a bored voice.

"Yet-"

"No, sorry. Look kid." She set down her clipboard, which had nothing written on it, and looked me in the eyes. "I appreciate seeing such determination in someone so little. But let's be reasonable here. You're underage for joining the war, so I really can't determine anything now. But it's not looking too great, okay? You can't hold a weapon, you don't even know your own race, and you don't have any fighting experience. Don't feel too bad; you're just not really meant for war."

"B-but, I could do it," I responded desperately. "I know it doesn't really seem like it, but, I swear-"

"I'm sorry." She grimaced. "I'm going to have to say no... You seem like a smart kid anyway, like you said, so maybe you should work toward something else. Something more suited to your abilities."

I sank down where I stood.

"Alright, that should be all. Thanks for calling me in." Somehow her thanks sounded more like an insult. She stood up and strode out of the room.

The shopkeeper shook his head. "No worries, little Marx. We'll find you a place yet; can't help that she was close-minded."

"No, it's okay," I murmured. "You were wrong. She's right."

"There is still chance for you-"

I forced a smile. "Really, it's okay. Thanks for trying, but I think this might come through some desire of yours to relive your life through mine or something like that. I'm not really meant for war at all, who was I kidding? I can't do that... but that's okay. You get used to not being able to do certain things. And I am really smart. I'll just do something better suited to my abilities."

That night, I snuck back into his shop while he was sleeping and stole a rope. I figured my need was greater than his.


	17. Chapter 17

It was Saturday. I was supposed to be meeting Andrew by the lake. Unfortunately, I had to plan everything on short notice, since I was otherwise occupied during the week... And since the war thing didn't really work out, I was still determined to follow through on something I could control. Luckily, I did manage to get everything planned alright in the end.

I came to the lake fifteen minutes before I told him I would be there, and went across the ice to search for an ideal spot. A small patch of thin ice near the middle seemed like it would serve my purpose well. I managed to kick it in a bit so there was a circle of water. The ice shards which broke off I shifted about a foot from the hole. Hopefully the thicker ice around it wouldn't give way.

I took note of that spot and pushed my ball off the ice before following after it (as always, I'd brought it with me. Unfortunately, balancing on a ball on ice did not go well).

This done, I returned to the hiding spot I'd found yesterday behind an evergreen bush, where even the bright colors of my hat and striped ball would be concealed. There was also the neatly knotted rope I'd placed there.

Everything was ready, a-okay. The only object missing from the show was Andrew. And he'd be here.

Wait, show? I frowned. This was my solution to my fears: the trial to see if my phobias could be conquered. It was more of an experiment than a show.

But now that I thought about it, I didn't mind that word at all. My show where I was the puppeteer - no, ringmaster - and everything was mine to command. The world was my own spectacle, and every person, my actors and puppets, toys to be used and played as I pleased, to dance at my whims and serve my inclinations. Them jumping through hoops and swallowing fire, risking life and limb on my orders without ever realizing the mastermind behind it - just like Andrew, perfectly unaware of my control over every action he did, how he was a tool in my grand performance, and then Derrick... Ah.

Yes, yes, yes - he'd be the crown of my show! Maybe so great a presentation that the ringmaster Marx himself would let it be shown to everybody attending!

The sound of crunching snow ripped me from my fantasizing. I was back behind the bush, rope at my side. No - how much time had passed? Someone walked by the lake; light footsteps barely discernible but there nonetheless.

I peered over the bush - it was Andrew. He didn't see me. My initial purpose for being here flooded back to me - it was merely to conquer fear of the lake and the memories associated with it. The experiment. Now I needed to focus. I couldn't forget WHY I had all this planned.

Time to put my plan into action.

I trotted down to the bank where he waited.

"Hey, hey, hey," I greeted.

He turned. "Hi, Marx. What are we going to do? No offense, but I'm kinda cold."

I nodded thoughtfully. "It is pretty cold out here."

"Sort of a bad place to meet, now that I think about it."

"It's okay," I said. "Maybe we can go somewhere afterwards; but first, there's something I want to show you."

A dubious look crossed his face. "Show me? Out here?"

"Yup!"

"Okay... are you going to show me?"

"Oh, right. It's a surprise, okay? So you have to close your eyes and turn the other way."

"This is really stupid, Marx. I'm not five years old."

"Just doo eeettttt," I begged. "Trust me, you'll be surprised! It'll be good."

He sighed and turned around. "Alright, fine. My eyes are closed."

"No peeking!" I trotted back to the bushes and retrieved the rope I had so carefully gotten. I then wrapped it loosely around myself and padded back to Andrew.

He still stood with his eyes closed, oblivious. His back was to me and it occurred to me how powerless and trusting he was right now. He hardly knew me and he already assumed I was harmless. I meant to simply trot back and do it quick - but suddenly I paused.

This was power, I had. Over him. So unsuspecting. Thought I was so innocent. It was... exhilarating.

I leaned close to his side. "Funny, how nobody but me knows where you are."

The comment made him twitch, but I could practically see him mentally brush it off. How predictable: the way his brows creased at the strange sentence, then relaxed as he reasoned it was just me, the reject foster kid, and I couldn't mean anything of it.

"Out of curiosity, where did you tell your parents you were?"

"Hanging out with Derrick at the video store. Why? And what's the surprise supposed to be?"

"It's a surprise, if I tell you, it'll give it away! And no reason. It's just... if you were to disappear, not a single person would know what happened, or where." I didn't know what I was doing; this was supposed to be quick, no playing around. For some reason, though, that logical part of me that said someone will show up - make it quick - be done with it - this is only to conquer fear - was all buried beneath my emotions at the immediate moment. Just a teeny insignificant voice.

Andrew didn't let that comment slide so easily. His eyes opened and he half turned back to me. He realized how close I was, and glimpsed the demonic grin on my face. He took a step away. Closer to the ice.

"What do you mean?" he said hastily.

"I only mean... you're really quite naive." A step forward, he took another back. Soon he tread onto the ice; I followed. It wasn't thin enough yet.

Our motions were united; him retreating as I slowly advanced, fear flicking in his expression just as anticipation flicked in mine. Like two parts of a whole. "To come here, alone... Not a single person can tell where you are, but me, and if I don't tell anyone... I guess that means... no one will ever know."

His voice was but a shallow breath, "Know what?"

I licked my fangs. "That you'll never leave here alive. Isn't that fun? Surprise!"

"Get away from me," he whimpered. His eyes never left mine. Connected, like some invisible strand between us. I hesitated, reluctant to shatter that connection.

Then he broke it.

He spun around and bolted toward the banks. With a snarl, I leapt after him. There was some thrill in the chase, but I was too afraid of him escaping to let him go far. I caught up before he could leave the ice and stuck out my foot, effectively tripping him.

He crashed down hard and instantly I reared above him and dug my foot into his back so he couldn't rise.

"You never guessed, really? You didn't, did you? Not a clue, not the slightest clue! Hehehe, but NOW you know, too late, wouldn't you say? Just a bit too late! Too bad, huh? Shouldn't have trusted the crazy kid!" I used my tongue to reach the rope around my waist and bring it up to my mouth. This way, I could lower my head and pull it off my left foot.

I then dropped the rope above his head, the rest falling into place on his back. I lifted my foot.

He fell right into my trap: as soon as the pressure lifted from his back, he scrambled to his feet to run.

Cackling to myself, I bit right above the knot and yanked my head back. The sound of cinching rope, then his strangled cry.

It was now when a flaw in my plan became apparent. The first initial jerk had only tightened the rope so much, and now even though I was holding the end of the rope, it was slack and wouldn't tighten any more. I'd have to get the base of the knot again to tighten it enough to kill him.

As of now, it was too loose - already his hands were scrambling desperately to pull the rope off his body. No!

I dropped the rope in order to get closer to the knot, but never reached it: Andrew stumbled away, hands scrabbling in terror over his restraints and breath coming short and shallow. He's fighting back.

No, no, not good, not good - I lunged at him furiously and bit down on his arm. I tasted the metallic tang of his blood on my tongue. That taste was becoming very familiar. His hands shoved my sides in a vain attempt to push me off, but I clung determinedly and dragged him back across the ice.

He shrieked incoherent words and another surge of fear shot through me: what if someone heard him?

"Shut up!" I snarled, releasing my grip on his arm. Immediately his palm lashed out and struck me across the face. I kicked him hard to the ice again and grabbed the rope in my teeth yet again. Yes! Next to the knot - I could tighten it all the way - please no one come until I' m done. One foot on his back held him down while I heaved upwards.

The rope constricted around his midsection; his screams tapered off into airless rasping. For good measure, I jerked the rope taunt again and again and again, forcing it to contract in short, painful bursts.

He writhed piteously under my foot, like a squirmy fish out of water. Each short jerk caused his body to convulse in a jumping motion. That made it hard to hold him down, but I kept determinedly at it. Logically, I guess it didn't really matter at this point because the rope was already tight, but I wasn't thinking too logically; I just continued to yank it taunt over and over.

Eventually his arms stopped flailing and fighting for grip on the ice. He was still alive, but only just. A few more tugs proved he wasn't able to do much more than tremble.

I let go of the rope and pulled it off before digging my fangs into his arm again and dragging him to the edge of the ice. He was way beyond fighting, or rather, whatever fight he had left meant nothing because he had lost all his ability to resist.

His sides heaved as he tried to suck in large gulps of air. This - this was it. I'm not sure what the rest of it was to me, but this moment brought me back to when I had nearly drowned out here. He was doing what I had done, making every effort to draw in precious oxygen. A different sort of connection snapped into place. Abruptly, I wanted to stop. I wanted to remove the rope and save him and forget I ever planned to kill him.

Yes, it was now - this! A hideous cackle escaped from my lips and I shoved him into the water. He tried to scream but the sound came out as a wheeze. Arms flailed weakly, barely keeping him above the surface, and I found myself practically breathless myself, watching him drown.

Fishie couldn't swim all that well.

He scrambled his arms over the slick ice, trying to clamber out, and I nudged him back into the water. "Sorry," I apologized. "You really did seem like a good person. We should've been friends, but it would be too hard to pretend to be someone else's friend, you know? So, thanks for being nice to me, because I did appreciate it a lot. But I have a sort of phobia of drowning and such, and I thought this would help it."

It only took a few minutes for him to stop struggling. My breath created little clouds of mist in the air, and it struck me how quiet it was all the sudden. One last thing to do. I pushed a large sliver of ice over the open water, so you couldn't see anything. Hopefully it would snow soon and make more layers on top.

I felt tired and worn, but satisfied. This was good, very good. My heartbeat, which had been uncomfortably fast for the last few days, slowed down at last. I almost wanted to curl up and fall asleep right then and there, but of course, I'd probably freeze if I did that. I'd be a Marxical. … Did that make Andrew a deecical?

"Marx?" a voice suddenly called out. I spun around. Arianna was trotting down a snowy hill towards me, looking concerned. "Marx, what are you doing by yourself on the ice?"

"I lost my notebook," I lied. Wait – no, stupid, stupid, stupid – lost my notebook? She'd caught me off guard and she still headed this way. I glanced down at the ice anxiously – good: no signs of what had just transpired.

"Marx, you don't have a notebook. Anyway, why would it be out here?" She knew I was lying, but didn't know why. That was good too. Arianna stopped by the bank of the lake and looked out at me worriedly. She knew I didn't like the lake. "Get off the ice," she called out. "It can't be safe out there. You don't know where it might break."

"Sorry." I slunk back to her.

"Oh my gosh," she put her paw on my side worriedly. "You're all wet! Did you fall in?" I was surprised to find she was right: somehow my fur was soaked – maybe I'd been splashed when Andrew was thrashing in the water. I hadn't even noticed. She placed her paws on either side of my face and looked at me firmly in the eyes.

"Marx, what were you doing out here? Be honest with me. You weren't…. trying to hurt yourself, were you?"

Why did I feel so guilty? That wasn't right, I shouldn't feel that way. What should I say? I squirmed under her gaze. "I'm fine, aren't I?" I mumbled. That wasn't confirming or denying anything. That terrible scared look in Arianna's eyes just got worse though, and I felt guiltier.

"You know I really care about you Marx, and I don't want you ever to get hurt."

Bad… I wanted to tell the truth – no, can't tell her, just go with it, doesn't have to know – but I wanted her to know, wanted to be honest – NO.

"Look at me," she ordered. My eyes met hers reluctantly. "It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, okay? You are a great, kind, friendly person. Maybe you are a little different, but you're unique that way, and that's a good thing. And you're my best friend. I don't want anything bad to ever happen to you again. Promise me you won't ever try to hurt yourself.

I looked her straightin the eyes and told her a truth. "I won't ever try to hurt myself."

She pulled me into a tight hug, seeming like she would never let go. "Don't scare me like that ever again. I didn't know what –" she broke off and hugged tighter – I swear my organs were getting crushed. It was really kind of uncomfortable, but I sensed that I shouldn't pull away.

Finally she let go and looked at me with sad eyes. "C'mon, let's go get you dry. You'll freeze out here like that."

"I'd be a Marxical."


	18. Chapter 18

Drowning Andrew didn't conquer my fear. It failed. I thought, at first, I had succeeded, but the nightmares persisted. Sometimes I woke up screaming, and sweating, and tangled in my sheets... but only sometimes.

Because something had changed. More often, the dreams would transform halfway through. A new element was introduced into these nightmares, so they no longer seemed so terrifying. Macabre and disturbing, yes. But not scary. I liked these dreams.

I would be in control, powerful... and Derrick, the fearful one, backing away with each step I took forward, laughter bubbling in my chest alongside a strange sort of anticipation. Sometimes there was blood, and he'd be on a cold metal table and I'd stand above him with my foot on his chest... Sometimes we were back at the lake and it was me drowning him. Sometimes it was worse, more creative ways of destroying him, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel any satisfaction in it. I've even dreamed these strange dreams where I had yellow wing-like appendages with sharp claws... Those were some of the best.

Usually, right before I would kill him was the time I would wake up, wheezing and laughing as though something had come in and possessed me without real knowledge of how I worked.

The odd dreams, more rare, were when it wasn't me or Derrick as the victim.

When it was Arianna.

I don't like those dreams. I don't think about them. I won't.

The next week of winter break passed pretty quickly. Reports of Andrew's 'disappearance,' showed up everywhere; it made the headlines every day, even though the police never got any new leads on it. The first days were nerve-wracking for me: I couldn't stop thinking about what I had done for fear that I'd be caught.

Every knock on the door sent my heart racing, sure that they had found evidence. Every phone call equaled a death sentence for me. Even if one of my foster parents called me down from my room or said they wanted to speak to me, I got all tense and felt horribly sick inside. It was amazing how the most trivial and remote things could seem so much like accusations.

But somehow I got better about it. After the first several times that sent me nearly into a panic attack, I gradually got calmer about it. Anyway, I assured myself, what could they prove? The cops were so incompetent here that they wouldn't understand evidence if it ran over them with a ten ton truck. Even if they did find something that lead back to me, it would be a small matter to convince them in some way that I wasn't involved.

Everything lulled back into a twisted sense of normality. Sure, many of the townspeople were freaking out about Andrew's disappearance, and his parents were worried sick, but... I wasn't going to get caught. That was fine with me.

The only problem remained: everything with Andrew had been completely pointless. I hadn't seen Derrick since then, but I could very well assume that I was still afraid of him, if he still haunted my nightmares.

Evidently, I just also wanted to hurt him...

If that wasn't contradictory, I didn't know what was. Except for peaches and pies being easy. I swear, they are NOT easy!

It frightened me a little too. I didn't WANT to hurt anyone, not even Andrew. He'd only been an experiment of sorts, one that failed because it didn't conquer my fear. A necessary exception to the rule. I wasn't a killer or anything.

Killing was something really crazy people did. Normal people didn't like it or anything; it was a bad thing. BAD, wrong, put-you-in-jail kinda bad.

I wasn't a killer. Nope.

If I didn't hurt Derrick {as much as he deserved it}, then it would prove I was just a normal kid, attending normal school, living a normal life!

Thus, I decided that, although I still needed to find a way to conquer my fear, I would NOT, under any circumstance, hurt Derrick. Forbidden. Newp, not allowed.


	19. Chapter 19

It was a lot harder to keep to my resolution to not hurt Derrick than I thought. Weirdly so, actually, because I never really wanted to hurt him in the first place. At least, not before all this started. Well, technically when I first met him, I wanted to be his friend, but that was going a little too far back, and that was irrelevant. I'd certainly learned more about the person he was since then.

The sort of person that tried to get everyone to hate me - and pretty much succeeded, because if people didn't already hate me for my odd and quirky behavior, then they were afraid of me due to rumors and said behavior. It was quite easy, really, to be isolated in that sort of environment. I did have Arianna, though, which I was always grateful for - even if her parents still did not approve of us hanging out together, and didn't even know how often we did. She'd gotten pretty good at lying too, even though she still felt guilty for it.

Anyway, like I said, I was having trouble not actively doing something about Derrick. He irritated me to no end, and... somehow he still scared me sometimes. Maybe because he really was much stronger than me. It was like, as soon as I knew I was capable of killing something, or of taking control... I wanted to utilize that to take control of this aspect of my life.

It's weird... how knowing that can change you.

And I'm not sure I really liked that... because if I resolved not to do anything else bad, but couldn't keep to it... Then I wasn't really in control in the first place?

I think it was around this time I started wanting things to go back to normal, before anything happened to me. But not so early to the point I didn't have any friends.

I guess, when it comes down to it, it was Arianna I was falling back to. She was so much more loyal than I could ever be: she stuck to my side even when I was too caught up in myself to notice.

And it occurred to me that I'd never done anything for her. Not that could I recall. She'd been the constant in my life; the one thing I knew would be forever, and the one person that wouldn't ever judge or leave or deceive me.

Somehow all this guilt and tension manifested itself in a desire to make her happy and show her I did actually care...

Which is exactly why I found myself striding to the store in Town's Square. I would have gone to the old shopkeeper's store, but I didn't like that place much anymore, and I doubted he would have anything close to what I was looking for.

Old war relics don't make good presents. Usually.

My entrance was announced by the clanging of the bell above the door. It was a much bigger place than the one I'd been to before... In fact, I really liked to avoid this place because it was full of bustling parents and shouting children and... well, chaotic people with chaotic ways. I didn't like such big crowds.

Rows of clothes were set up all around the place, with accessories and shoes towards the middle.

I gravitated to those, already having a pretty good idea what I wanted.

Bracelets, no... headbands, definitely not - ah, bows. I smiled and scanned through the options. Currently Arianna had a simple and small light blue bow, but she'd had it for a while, and I'm not sure she really liked it as much any more. It was sort of basic, so I wanted to find a better one.

The store had a multitude of bows, in all sorts of colors... pink, purple, blue, red, striped, on and on and on. I was disappointed to find they were all sorted in piles of the same type, and there wasn't a single unique one that didn't look like another one in its pile.

That is, until I dug around the piles and found one specific one at the very bottom - one that wasn't alike any other. It was a dark midnight blue, speckled with bright yellow stars. The ribbons were much longer than Arianna's current one, and fluttered when I picked it up. Perfect.

I placed the bow carefully on the counter and peered up at the clerk. "Hello," I greeted. "This'll be all I'm getting today."

The man snorted. "You realize this is a girl's bow, right?" he said. "You should just stick with your red one."

I narrowed my eyes. "Yes, thank you, I realize that. It's not for me."

"Easy there kid, chill."

"..."

"It costs four coins," he informed me.

I grimaced. "Well, I don't actually have any money at the time, but I was thinking, maybe you could do me a favor and just let me buy it now and pay later? A credit sort of thing, you know. It's a gift for someone important and I really would like to get it now."

"No money, no purchase. Sorry kid."

"B-but, not even if I come back tomorrow? I'll have money, I promise."

"There's a line," the man scowled. "of good people willing to pay for their items. Come back tomorrow when you have money."

"No, I was thinking maybe I could help you somehow? Y'know since I don't have money right now, maybe I can-"

"It only costs four coins! Either pay up or leave without it!"

"Could I maybe pay off with labor? Like, if you need help doing anything, I swear-"

"Get out of line!"

"Or I'll have the money tomorrow, please-"

"Damnit!" The clerk slapped his face with his palm. "Okay, okay, just shut up! You wanna help?" He gestured to a pile of boxes beside the counter. "Drag those outside so they can be shipped out to another store. Stay out of the way of customers and don't steal anything. Go on, get moving."

"Thanks!" I scurried out of the way of the counter and carefully placed the bow back in its place.

Then I went straight over to the boxes; there was only four of them stacked on top each other; two on bottom, two on top. This would be easy. Naturally, I stood on my toes and grabbed the first one and gave it a good tug.

It didn't move. I frowned. It was probably heavier than I expected... That was okay; I could improvise. I bit the open flap of the box again and planted my feet before pulling as hard as I could.

In hindsight, maybe that hadn't been the greatest idea. The box slid a foot or so, then completely tipped over itself, dumping its entire contents over me and the floor.

I groaned, shaking off bracelets and bows that had fallen on me with disgust. Now a multitude of accessories littered the floor all around me, and the clerk was glaring at me angrily. The customers stared.

"Sorry," I squeaked. "I'll pick it up."

Trying to ignore their following eyes, I set about picking up each little item and placing it back in the box. I hoped they hadn't had any sort of order, because they sure didn't now.

I was just getting the last item back in the box when the clerk finished dealing with his customers. I expected him to maybe come over and help, but instead he pulled a fold-out chair and reclined back in it, disinterestedly shuffling money from the register.

"Uh, are you going to help?" I asked. There was another box atop the others, and he didn't have to be a genius to realize that I probably wouldn't be able to get that one down without the same incident occurring again.

The clerk shrugged. "You said you were going to do it, so I'm not interrupting, because you're not even paying for the bow you wanted."

"Could you just get that one down?" I asked. "So it doesn't fall too, you know."

The guy scowled. "I'm busy."

I sighed and turned back to my task. Right. He wasn't going to help at all. Alright. Well, I didn't need his help anyway. At least, I hoped I wouldn't. To my surprise, though, the rest of my 'job' went by fairly easily. I just clambered up onto one of the boxes and used my leverage point to push the other off, and was careful enough for it not to tip.

It took five more minutes to drag each box separately out of the shop and onto the curb, where the truck driver then loaded them up.

Once finished, I returned back to the shop and looked at the clerk expectantly. "Well, can I have the bow now?"

The clerk looked disappointed. I don't think he expected me to actually do as he'd asked.

"Fine," he scowled. "Go ahead, take it. But next time bring money. This is a store, not charity."

"Thank you," I smiled and resolved to never come back to this store. ... Wow, I should just stop going to stores in general.

I wandered out of the store, having clipped the bow to the back of my hat to carry it. Arianna was most likely at her house right now, because we would be having our final tests next week and she always studied hard. Unfortunately, this meant that it would be hard to give her the gift. See, her parents don't know she still hangs out with me, and I highly doubt they would be happy for me to suddenly show up at her house.

But this was sort of important. It didn't actually occur to me to wait for another time: my only concern was finding a way to accomplish my current goal, without realizing there were other options.

That's how I found myself sneaking back into her room much the same way I had the first time: climb up onto their car, leap from there to the lowest balcony, then sidle over to her window.

She sat at her desk, curled over a paper with a frustrated frown on her face. I tapped impatiently at the window, but she didn't even look up until the fourth tap. Instantly she rose from her chair, mystified, and unlocked the window.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "If my parents find you..."

"It's okay; I'll be quiet. And if they come I can just leave real fast."

"Maybe you can help me figure this problem out then," she said hopefully, hurrying back to her desk. "I've been stuck on it for like, the past half hour."

"Oh..." I peered over her shoulder. "It's skroot two end paranthesis two times five. That's one of the first equations we got."

She raised a nonexistent eyebrow. "Skroot?"

"Square root. It takes too long to say. Skroot."

"Right. So skroot two then separately two times five?"

"Yup!"

"How do you... ughh," she sighed.

"It's not that hard," I protested. "Right now we're just rearranging equations. Seriously, I looked further in the book. It gets more difficult later on when we have to deal with using them."

"Didn't you tell me you had a C in math?"

"I do."

Arianna frowned at me. "If you know all the equations, why can't you do better?"

"Because homework is stupid. My teacher wants me to get my parents to write down answers as I say them so there's written record, but I don't get the point of going over stuff I already know again and again. It wastes time. But at least I get A's on my tests! All the zeroes and hundreds add up to a C."

She shook her head. "You could actually be really good if you tried."

"I am really good. I just don't need to prove it to the teacher."

"Okay, okay." She glanced over at me curiously. "Why did you come over? Surely it wasn't just to help me with my math, because if it was, my parents might actually be more lenient towards you."

I stuck out my tongue. "Are you saying something about my disposition?"

"Only that schoolwork isn't your top priority."

"In that case," I grinned, "you must be my priority. I got you a gift." I pulled the bow off my hat and held it out to her. She accepted it, a wide smile spreading across her face. She quickly took off her old light blue one and replaced it with the new one.

She blushed. "Thanks Marx... that's really sweet of you. But... you do know it's not my birthday, right?"

"Of course I know that," I told her. "It isn't for your birthday - not for any specific event, really. It's just, life is brief, and the outcome isn't clear. So, we should treasure each moment as it comes, right?" I smiled. "I made something great out of this day for you."

A strange look entered her eyes - but not a bad one, not at all. It was something brighter, softer. I couldn't describe it, exactly, but it made me wonder why she didn't have that look more often, because it seemed like such a good thing. She smiled. "That's... a really good philosophy Marx."

She glanced with a tired expression at her desk and disorganized pile of papers. Then back at me with another small smile. "And you're right: we only live once." She grabbed the end of my hat and tugged me toward the window, calling out, "Let's enjoy it!"


	20. Chapter 20

It's happening again. Hate it; don't want it. But it doesn't care about me. Whatever it was.

My dreams just get worse and worse and more frequent; both the ones were I am the victim, and the ones where I was in control; each which I despised and loved, respectively. I don't really understand my own motives, or even my own thoughts. Reality itself seemed to be slipping, and I didn't understand any of it.

Sometimes dreams melded with reality, and I'd find myself in the middle of an illusion during the day, only to snap out of it in panic upon realizing what was happening.

Days and weeks passed; winter began to dissolve away into Spring, and still I could never really focus on anything that was going on.

Arianna tried to help, I know she did. But I didn't even know how to explain to her what was going on. I myself didn't know what was going on.

Why did my life revolve around fear? Why couldn't I simply wake one morning, go to school, and have a NORMAL day?

Instead I felt like I was on a train destined to wreck, plunging to the ultimate crash without knowing when it would occur. And I was pretty certain it was all my fault, though I couldn't be certain HOW.

Pretty sure I was losing control... It was like a psychological sickness, but tended to manifest itself in oddly physical ways. My heart raced all the time; I couldn't relax and slow it down. Sometimes I shook upon waking from another false illusion, and spent minutes reestablishing my reality. It became harder and harder to focus on things. Where once I had incredible patience, I was now found wanting.

I was quicker to anger and could never keep my mind on more pleasant topics. It was bordering fantasizing when I imagined the terrible things I could do if I was in control of everything. Like...

No, no, NO - I'm forbidden from hurting him - oh, I hate him, but I can't hurt him, that would mean I'm crazy, that would mean I couldn't control my own thoughts.

But I didn't get why I was fighting any more. What did this really matter to me; was living like this worth it?

Sometimes I want to curl up and cry and have someone care unconditionally. Arianna would. But I never let her in; I never break in front of her. Other times, I feel like I am so much greater than everyone around me. They are so hopeless and full of illusions; thinking they're accomplishing something with their dimwitted minds, going in circles.

But then, what am I accomplishing?

Maybe nothing. Maybe there's nothing to accomplish. Wasn't that something Andrew had said?

Maybe - just maybe - I should live to serve myself, my own drives, my own desires. We're always taught it's selfish and cruel to not care about others and to care about ourselves alone. But why are we taught that? So we don't hurt people, and in turn, don't get hurt?

There was a thousand things wrong with that idea. Wasn't I hurt? All I had done was try to be myself and be kind, but the response was attempted murder.

Arianna was gentle and loving, but people took advantage of that. It wasn't fair at all - why should we be kind for that? Maybe by being kind, I would make someone else's life just a little better. But what did that matter to me?

This was intriguing. I stuck my tongue out thoughtfully and gazed at nothing in particular.

Why did I ever try to NOT do something that felt good, but was ultimately bad? Like my dreams; about me hurting others. I really liked to do that. The dee was proof of that, wasn't he? Frozen proof. Oh wait, it was spring now... I frowned. Ew.

Anyway, point was that I'd been spending all this time trying NOT to do bad things, because I'd known people didn't like that sort of thing. But that meant my actions were results of what they expected and not what my own perception of the world was like.

That was stupid. I was me, myself, I, Marx, me, I, Marx, myself, ME. Not you, society. Newp, me.

The answer was quite simple - so obvious I didn't know how I hadn't seen it before.

I should live to serve myself. I do what I please when I please and how I please. People would spend all their time trying to stop me if they wanted, but that was their loss, because I knew what was right and they were just stupidly adhering to some weird code that just protected THEM.

Now I guess I should figure out what I wanted, then go to any means to achieve it.

There wasn't any doubt in my mind what I wanted; the very thing I'd dreamed about for months now, ever since Andrew's death.

Chills went up my spine. Would I really? Could I really? I panted as I thought it through, my tongue hanging between my fangs.

Yes, oh yes I could. I could, if I'd only let myself. And here I could let myself.

I couldn't remember why I'd ever resisted at all - we're only ourselves, right? And me, I was Marx, Marx was... no, not crazy - WHY did that still bother me? It shouldn't if I didn't care what other people thought.

It was all so confusing, but I knew one thing, and that was that Derrick wasn't really safe from me anymore. I finally had something to set my sights on, something to accomplish...


	21. Chapter 21

There was a vast difference between Andrew and Derrick. I was stronger than Andrew, so one-on-one, I could beat him. Derrick was stronger than me. I couldn't fight him into submission the same way - no rope, no ice. I would need a different plan. One well thought out, without the slightest chance of going wrong. Even Andrew's death had been imperfect - Derrick's was so much more important, I couldn't mess it up.

Which meant I needed to figure out a perfect plan. The perfect murder, only I wasn't trying to get away with anything. I wanted everyone to see; everyone to be there. This complicated it even more, but I was determined. I could do it. I could anything I set my mind to; the ringmaster of the world.

I needed only to create the perfect scheme. Let me tell you: it's a lot harder than it looked. I pored over crime books and studied foreign news articles and learned all I could about the subject. Perfect murder is difficult. I found a lot that could help me, and designed a lot of plans, but always I found something wrong with them. To console myself after each one, I told myself that at least I had not tried to do it, when there was always that opportunity for failure.

This was how I spent a week, holed away in my room for the most part. The only times I left was for school, where I was distracted and unfocused, and the library, to retrieve more books. Sadly, this meant I didn't really have much time for Arianna, but that was okay for now. I did miss seeing her a lot after school, I guess, but it was necessary to be fully focused on this so I could catch mistakes.

Unfortunately, she didn't understand quite as well as I would have hoped. One afternoon, while I sat in my chair and perused over an old tome, I heard her enter the room behind me. I didn't acknowledge her presence. I was busy.

She padded close behind me and placed a hand on my head. "Marx... you're still working on this?"

"Mhmm..."

"Why don't you come outside with me? It's such a nice day; we can play a game or something. Maybe you can show me a trick on your ball."

"Maybe later."

There was a long silence. "Marx, I'm worried about what you're doing."

"I'm fine."

"No, listen to me."

"I'm finneee," I stuck out my tongue and forced a grin. "Thee Ariahna? Uh'm doing thfine." My tongue quickly withdrew and I refocused on my work.

She took me completely by surprise by grabbing the back of the chair and yanking it back. Her paws settled on either side of my face and she looked firmly into my eyes. "No. Don't lie to me. This isn't healthy, and you know it. You're dwelling on things you shouldn't dwell on."

"There's nothing wrong," I growled, anger surging up.

"There is," she said sadly. "You aren't being yourself. What happened to your playfulness? And your lighthearted attitude? Or even caring about me?"

"I care about you," I said defensively.

"You've ignored me for the past week. If I didn't stop by, would you ever notice I was gone?"

"I would! I do care about you! Maybe it's you that doesn't care! If you cared, you wouldn't try to make me do something I don't want to do."

"You know how stupid that sounds?" she retorted. "I do this because I care about you. I don't want to see you suffering like this."

"I'm not suffering."

"You are! You just won't admit it! You're letting this... this _something_ take you over, it's all you can think about."

"I'm focused, is all," I argued back.

"There's a difference between focused and obsessed."

"Kind of like how you're obsessed with what I'm doing ALL the time?"

"I'm trying to help you!"

"Fine." I stuck out my tongue. "What would make you feel better?"

She looked surprised that I had given in so easily. "Well..." She nodded, glad she got her way. "I think we should go do something. Play outside or something, like we used to."

"Do you want to swim in the lake?" I asked. It was a reflex; I hadn't exactly meant to mention the lake. I guess I'd been so focused on it lately that it just came out. Not that it seemed like a bad idea. Assuming... oh wait... Andrew was never FOUND, was he? I didn't think dead bodies sunk, but...

"We could, I guess," Arianna frowned. She probably was thinking of when Derrick almost drowned me. I don't think of that memory. Newp, washed from my brain. Except for now that is, but... No, no memory there. Killing Andrew; that's what happened at the lake, nothing involving Derrick or me nearly drowning. Nope.

"I changed my mind," I said hastily. "Do you have any ideas?"

"Hmm... why don't we go see a movie? We haven't been to the movies in a while."

"Sure," I nodded. "See, was that hard? Of course I want to hang out with you. I'm just busy, is all. But I'll go with you this time, even if I should be working..."

"Working on what?" Arianna said, not without a hint of anger. That was unusual for her: she's not a very angry person.

"School stuff, you know. A project about crime."

"That's what you said last time I asked."

"It's consistent," I pointed out. "Are you implying it's something else?" She had no proof it could be anything else, to my knowledge. It was only her sharp intuition that kept her prying, made her distrust my lies. It's weird how you can be upset at someone for not believing your lies.

"I just... It's not school work, Marx. Don't try to be all cute and deny it either, because I know something is up that you're not telling me."

"Maybe it's a surprise," I said defensively. "You'll get to know later."

She looked at me solemnly. "Then why does it seem like it's so bad now?"

"You worry too much?" I guessed.

"But... you've been so distant."

I winked. "Only thoughtful. Now, your dear Marx will take you to the movies! We'll get some candy and coke, yes?"

She rolled her eyes. "You and sugar..."

"We have a good relationship," I nodded.

"Better than ours has been."

I bit my tongue. Oh. I couldn't find any words.

Arianna sighed. "I'm sorry. We should head to the movies. Do you have any money?"

"Still broke," I told her as we walked out of my house. "Didn't your parents give you money?"

"Yes, and a little extra if you want to get some candy too. I told them I was going with Rana and Tashe so they'd lend me more, since neither of them are very wealthy either..."

"Good idea."

"Yeah, I guess." She looked uneasy. "Well, what movie do you want to see?"

"I haven't really been paying attention to what has come out lately," I admitted. "Do you have any suggestions?"

"I like comedies; maybe we could see one of those," she said, brightening.

We agreed upon a movie she'd seen advertised on TV that looked funny, but to be honest...

I wasn't paying attention throughout most of the movie itself. I meant to - I did! But I found myself too occupied with my thoughts. Not that this was wholly my fault - something distracted me. See, as we were walking up to the theater, I found myself thinking about how the movie theater really was my favorite place in the Town's Square. It was never overcrowded like the other shops, and people just came to sit down together and watch a good movie. It was quiet and pleasant and I could feel a thousand emotions watching movies.

The actual theater was really cool too, being three stories high - bigger than any building I'd ever seen - and navy blue with stars all over it. The best part were the lights they'd recently installed: two huge beacons on either side of the building that displayed their brightness to the sky above and rotated around. They only came on at night, unfortunately, but I think if they were on during the day, the sun would ruin the effect anyway.

Right between the two beacons was a ledge, always empty, as if there was something missing there. Like there should be something, but no one had cared to finish the design.

And I thought... that was just like a stage in itself.

How was I supposed to focus on the movie, regardless how funny it may have been, when I could think about was the empty stage? Something missing.


	22. Chapter 22

I kicked the door lightly a few times then waited. An older woman with bright red hair opened it and peered down at me curiously. "Hello."

"Hiya," I smiled and rounded my purple eyes. Cuteness factor never failed. "I'm Derrick's friend, Maruku." She probably recognized the name Marx as the one whom had attacked Derrick: that wasn't exactly the first impression I was hoping for. With a little luck, she wouldn't know what I actually looked like.

"Maruku?" she frowned. "You're a friend of Derrick's?"

I think the cuteness factor DID just fail – she was good…. Either that or she had a suspicion about who I was: this option was more likely. After all, I wasn't even the same species as most the residents in Hayashi Grove. I was bound to be recognized by anyone in Hayashi, even if people had never seen me, simply because I was foreign. I would need some improvising.

"Yeahh…" I said. "This is Derrick Reynold's residence, isn't it?" I tried to peer at the address as though I felt I'd gotten it wrong.

"Yes, it is." She hurriedly intercepted. The initial suspicion gave way to a more curious expression, "Pardon me, but where do you know him from?"

"Oh! I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to just barge in…. You are… Derrick's mother, right?"

"Yes, that's correct, and you…?"

I smiled, "Pen pals. A sort of foreign exchange thing."

"Derrick's school has a foreign exchange program?"

"Of course! I'm from Dreamland. If you sign some sort of waiver … I dunno, my mom signed mine… then a student can get a pen pal from a different province. Didn't you get a waiver like that?" Now I had her in a state of puzzlement, trying to keep up with my fast talking and get ahold of all the information along with it. Good, this was good. And she'd already said yes twice; that made her more apt to say it again. Not to mention she wouldn't want to seem dumb in front of some foreign kid.

"Y-yes, I suppose… There were a lot of waivers to sign at the beginning of the year… Yes, that must've been one of them."

"It is okay, that I stopped by?" I asked. "Normally it's strictly letters we send, but my family was passing through here on vacation and I thought it'd be okay to come…."

"Of course, yes, that's fine." She smiled warmly. "Pardon me; I simply wasn't expecting a guest, but of course you're welcome. I'm afraid the house is a bit of a mess…" she pushed back a loose strand of red hair and glanced anxiously behind her. "Maybe I should just call Derrick down… he can take you on a tour of the town; would that be alright?"

I replied hastily, "Oh, it's fine. Don't mind me; you should see my house!"

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"Yeah! Don't worry about it. I'm just stopping by for a short time anyway."

"Okay, then by all means, come in." She ushered me through the door. The front room was pretty large, with green walls and furniture with forest-like patterns. A small TV was propped on a desk before the couch: somewhat of a rarity in Hayashi. When I looked up, I could see some type of loft which made up the second floor. The stairs were at the far end of the room, and I could just barely glimpse a beanbag at the edge of the loft.

The house wasn't too bad; a few cleaning supplies scattered around a vaccuum, suggesting that's what his mother had been in the middle of doing, and some magazines and other assorted items on the floor. Aside from that, it wasn't too bad. She must be obsessed with cleanliness.

"Do you want something to eat? Drink?" she offered.

"Hmm, what do you have? I'm not really familiar with Hayashi food, I don't think."

"Well, we have basic things to drink; milk, water, juice. Do you know what carrots are?"

"Carrots?" Ew. "No, I don't think we have carrots in Dreamland… We have cookies, though, do you have cookies?"

"Yes," his mother replied, looking happy she could do something right. "I don't make them often, but I just happen to have a batch right now! Do you want to go get Derrick and come down for some cookies?"

"I'm kinda hungry actually," I admitted. "Maybe I can have a few now and then surprise him? He doesn't know I'm coming, see."

"I suppose that's okay," she nodded.

She then led me to the kitchen and got out a tray of cookies. Some were already eaten – probably by Derrick. She took off two and placed them on a napkin for me. Only two? I thought sadly.

She sat beside me as I ate, which made me feel a little uncomfortable. I felt like she was somehow criticizing the way I ate.

"What's Dreamland like?" his mother broke in.

"Mm… It's warm. Very warm. Derrick told me about snow. It doesn't snow in Dreamland." To be honest, I had no idea what Dreamland was like. But if it was a land of dreams… then I could make up what I liked. It wasn't like she would ever know.

"No snow?" she said in amazement.

I finished my cookies and eyed the tray. "No snow," I confirmed. "It's warm all year round. In winter it gets little colder, but never enough for snow. We have a lake too. But it's always warm water, and it never freezes."

So as not to be rude, his mother gave me a few more cookies. "You must be hungry."

"A bit. Traveling makes me hungry. I'm sorry; am I eating too much? In Dreamland it's customary to give your guest more food than they can eat. It didn't occur to me other cultures might be different; I am intruding?"

My lies might be going a little too far now: I should probably finish up and go get Derrick.

"No; you're fine," Mrs. Reynolds smiled, but she looked slightly suspicious. Darn. No more cookies for me. Except the ones still in front of me, of course.

"I'm quite surprised Derrick hasn't told me about you," Mrs Reynolds continued, seemingly uncomfortable with silence.

"Me too," I nodded convincingly. "He's told me an awful lot about Hayashi Grove though - it does seem like an interesting place. And he says you're nice."

"Did he?" she smiled.

"Oh yeah. So, you said he's on the second floor?"

"Would you like to show me his room?"

"I think I'll be okay, but thanks," I replied and grinned.

"Well, you boys have fun then! Don't get into too much trouble."

She tucked a frazzled hair behind her ear and began cleaning up the cookie crumbs. I darted out quickly.

Once I turned the corner, my eyes hunted around the entry room. Oh, the vacuum - of course. I glanced back to make sure Derrick's mother wasn't coming, then darted to the outlet and unplugged the cord. With this done, I chewed off the other end and proceeded to Derrick's room, cord in my mouth.


	23. Chapter 23

I padded up the stairs, then as I neared a hallway of doors, I began to walk slower and roll on the balls of my feet more, to muffle my footsteps. After a brief check, I determined that the first room must be his mother's bedroom. Disappointed, I moved to the next door. Slunk close to the wood, nudged it oh-so-lightly with my foot to find -

It was a closet. I sighed mentally and shut that door to proceed onward. Only one more door left; really, this one had to be his. I scooted behind it and peered through a mere crack. I caught a sliver of a band poster, the edge of a bed. Pushing the door open a teeny more, I glimpsed papers scattered carelessly around his desk, and an unmade bed with dark green covers spilling off the side. Yes, this must be his bedroom!

But there was one problem.

The room was empty.

A horrible iciness washed over me, and my confidence dropped like a stone. Not good. Everything I'd planned relied on him being in his room, and if he wasn't there...

Wait. If he wasn't there... where was he? He had to be home, otherwise his mother wouldn't send me up to see him, but he hadn't been anywhere on the first floor. A shiver ran down my spine and suddenly I felt very exposed.

Like someone was watching me.

Slowly, I turned on the spot. My eyes must've been ridiculously large when they settled on the bean bag in the loft. Or rather, the very familiar figure reclining in it with the air of one who owned the place. Derrick's stare was fixed on me, and he didn't look at all happy. With a jolt, I realized that he would've been able to hear every word exchanged between his mother and I from his vantage point.

No point in pretending I wasn't here. It was far too clear that he'd been listening and watching ever since I came through his doorway. As carefully as I'd planned everything, it still had gone horribly wrong at the very start.

Filled with dread, I placed one foot in front of the other until I stood before him. All the sudden I found myself very much at a loss for words.

When he spoke, the low tone barely reached my ears, but it was simmering with threats. "What do you think you are doing here?"

"N-nothing really," I whispered back. "I should be going now."

"No." It was amazing how quiet and yet terrifying he managed to make that word. It seemed he, too, didn't want his mother involved. "You don't enter your enemy's home pretending to be someone else, then try to sneak into their room like a criminal, and leave for no apparent reason. What. Are you doing. In my house."

I didn't answer. How could I answer? No valid excuses, no verbal loopholes or accidents I could blame this on. Even if I tried one, he'd see right through it. The silence was excruciating. But I couldn't answer.

Derrick's scrutiny shifted to the wire in my mouth. "Is that... an electric cord?"

No reply.

His eyes widened. "Oh... Oh, you sick fuck. Were you going to... torture me?"

Well, technically that hadn't been my motive at all, but I remained silent, because it might be better for him to assume that.

"You were," Derrick gaped, disbelief written on his features even though he himself had suggested it.

I felt idiotic, standing there as though I didn't know how to talk. He leaned forward and yanked the cord out of my mouth none-too-gently. If it didn't sound odd, I felt even more vulnerable without it.

He threw it to the side and pulled out a weapon he deemed more effective - the same silver pocket knife he'd shown me before. He pointed it dangerously close to my face. "This... is not okay, Marx. Stuff like this can't keep happening. I don't know exactly what goes on in your sick little brain, but you've crossed the line one too many times, and it's gotta stop. How safe do you think this makes me feel when I sleep at night, huh?"

"I didn't intend you to be returning," I muttered under my breath.

"What was that?"

"Why don't we talk about this somewhere more private?" I suggested.

He gave a short, humorless laugh. "No. We're fine right here, where someone can hear us if I want them to."

"Oh." I looked straight at him. "You'd really want to get your mother involved in this?"

He glared. "Whatever 'this' is, Marx, she's not part of it, and you'd better not drag her into it."

"But if you call her, she will be."

"We're not going anywhere," he growled.

"Hm, you're too scared to be alone with me? Do you really think I could hurt you and you wouldn't be able to stop me?"

The knife tip wavered. Warning in his eyes, 'stop, going too far, remembering, back off-'

I licked my fangs. Nervous, yes, but gaining? I think I could feel it, barely. Was it possible to sense another's fear? Would this help me, or was I just getting caught up in it? I didn't know, didn't know, but my body seemed to be acting as though I was something apart from it. Speaking without my consent, saying things I didn't think of.

I stepped closer, so close the knife almost touched between my eyes. My gaze shifted sardonically to the scars on his forearms. "Those never healed up all the way, did they?" I didn't know what I was doing. It wasn't even something I was wholly comfortable with, because I didn't know if the thought that I'd permanently scarred someone was one I liked.

There wasn't much of a visible change in his countenance, but I caught it. I couldn't even tell you how I knew. He remembered that day too, remembered his fear.

"The doctors said they wouldn't," Derrick acknowledged, like he was trying to be casual. Commenting on the weather. But he wasn't and he knew it. Trying. My breath caught.

Then in one swift movement, I kicked the knife out of his hands, and it landed a few feet away, out of both our reaches. It was too much for Derrick. He shoved me roughly backward, a predatory fierceness and fear entering his expression. He held up his hands. "Okay, enough. You wanted to leave before, Marx, now leave. Don't ever come back to my house."

"But you seemed so insistent on me staying," I argued weakly.

"Leave." He wasn't going to give. He didn't want me anywhere near him.

The feeling of control was fading, I knew it was - and I was left with nothing again, no great plan, no superior ideas. I'd gotten him afraid, but now I couldn't handle his fear. I couldn't just leave, but what could I possibly achieved if I stayed? I needed this to go well, but obviously it wasn't. I stalled, not saying anything, my previous nervousness coming back full force. Oh, why did things have to go so wrong? Run and grab knife or cord, or fight, or run, or simply leave, remain, keep talking-? Nothing that would cause him to shout out or get the attention of his mother, which left only the option of leaving, and that I couldn't possibly-

Thankfully, he kind of decided.

He grabbed me firmly and pushed me toward the stairs with desperate impatience. Then I didn't even think about anything except I hated touch. Twisting in his grip, I bit down hard on his wrist. In hindsight, it wasn't the greatest reaction, since he could've yelled over it. Turns out he had excellent self-control, however, and the only noise that escaped his lips was a shocked grunt.

Unfortunately, he responded by striking me with his free hand, and I let go to stagger away. I licked my fangs as I backed away, eyeing him cautiously. "You bastard," he mouthed, face twisted in anger. He stalked after me, fists clenched, one wrist bleeding slightly.

Oh god oh god oh god - I darted to the side, slipped past him and lunged for the electric cord. Knife was too far away. I managed to pick it up rapidly with my teeth and spin around to face him, but he was right behind me and before I could duck out of the way, he grabbed either end of the cord. With this leverage - both giving him the upper hand and preventing me from biting - he pinned me against the wall. I squirmed and gnashed my fangs furiously, but due to the pressure couldn't ever get them to actually bite into the cord and free myself.

Suddenly, a voice from downstairs interrupted us. "Derrick? Maruku? Is everything okay up there?"

We both froze, eyes snapping to the staircase. We both sighed in collective relief when we realized she hadn't actually come up the stairs, but merely heard the struggle and called from below us.

"Yeah!" Derrick called back, panic in his expression. "We're uh -"

I growled lowly, unable to talk clearly with the cord in my mouth, but knowing if only he'd let me, I'd be able to lie so much better than him. His resulting glare told me not a chance. "It's so great to see Maruku!" he exclaimed. "Such a surprise!" Didn't have to lie for that second one.

"Are you okay?" She was beginning to sound concerned, and we heard her footsteps starting on the staircase.

Derrick clenched his teeth, clearly weighing his options. Yeah, well, we didn't have all that many options. I narrowed my eyes. Off off get off fake it you idiot. I don't think I was all that great at telepathy, but he must've gotten the same thought as I, because he abruptly yanked the cord back and stuffed it into his pocket.

Without question, I ran toward the knife and kicked it under the TV. Then Derrick and I sidled closer, I on the side of his hurt wrist so he could conceal it more easily.

Mrs. Reynolds walked up the last steps and peered at us curiously. "What in the devil are you doing up here?"

"Sorry, Mrs. Reynolds," I grinned. "It was kinda silly actually - we were about to play video games, and I was just messing around so I pushed Derrick off the couch. I guess he wasn't expecting it because he just fell and hit the ground harder than I expected! He's okay though." I giggled.

"Yeah, isn't he such a jokester?" Derrick added in, resting his arm across my back and giving an 'affectionate' pat. I had to resist grinding my teeth together. He knew I hated any kind of touch. "Man, was I surprised to see him! I bet he's got a lot to tell about Dreamland too."

She laughed, but there was something still uneasy about her countenance. Call it mother's instinct, or whatever you wish, but I think she had a feeling something was wrong. She just didn't know why, or how, and because the situation repeatedly told her otherwise, she was trying to dismiss it. We just needed to help her with that.

"Yes, but first I want to see some video games! You must have different ones than in Dreamland," I said.

"Do you have video games there?" his mother asked. "Oh, but I'm sure you do, it's not like we live on different planets after all." Suddenly, she frowned, realizing something. "Maruku, I don't mean to be rude at all, but can you play video games?"

Derrick said loudly, "it's not rude at all, mom, I'm sure he's used to people asking things like that since he travels so much, right Maruku?"

"Sure I am, and I'm definitely not offended by it."

"Though he can't play video games," Derrick chipped in. "He likes to watch."

"Yup, could entertain me for hours." Oh, how badly I wanted to hurt him already, but he wasn't done yet.

"There's a lot of stuff he can't do... but he's pretty used to having to do things differently or just watching. It's not like a handicap or anything."

Mrs. Reynolds was starting to look at us strangely again. She seemed to pick up the fact that the comment, however off-hand Derrick meant to make it sound, could be offensive, so she smiled at me gently and said, "I'm sure he gets along fine. Now Derrick, remember to be nice to your guest and don't forget your manners."

"Mom, really? We're good friends, he knows me. I don't need to be all uptight." He patted my head again, letting his hand rest there casually. My eye twitched.

She gave him a stern look. "Derrick..."

He scowled. "Yeah, yeah. Can we play video games now?" It took a few more pointless discussions and not-so-subtle hints from Derrick that he would like to play video games with his 'friend' before his mother would finally retreat back downstairs.

We remained frozen at each others' sides until we heard her footsteps fade. A few more seconds past, and we listened to her bustling around in the kitchen before a door opened and closed.

"Basement," Derrick mouthed.

Theirs must be one of those furnished basements, that had to be cleaned like the rest of the house. Mine wasn't like that. Just cold concrete and framework.

But it meant she'd be relatively out of ear shot. I didn't wait another second before whirling in place and snapping at the hand resting on my head. As if expecting the maneuver - he probably had - Derrick leapt back before I could so much as scrape against the skin.

He dove to the TV and stretched his arm under to reach the knife. I darted after Derrick and stomped on his extended elbow. He yelped slightly, but it didn't break the bone like I'd hoped it would. His hand reached the knife and curled around the handle. Silver lashed out at me as Derrick scrambled up from the floor and I skittered back.

He reeled after me, knife slashing through the air in uncoordinated swipes. The electric cord was still in his pocket as well, meaning than I felt essentially defenseless. A pitiful whimper escaped my mouth. What to do, what to do - I ran, but not downstairs. Even under all the anxiety, my purpose in coming here never left me. Instead, I bolted to Derrick's room, kicked open the door, and ran in. Everything was already all ruined. I couldn't go with my original plan.

But maybe - no, I didn't know, I didn't know what to do. Height - hey, I like heights, balancing too, that's fun. Sure, let's go with what was comfortable. I wasn't able to help the simple smile that spread across my face. Heights, yep, simplicity. I leapt onto Derrick's bed, and from there, a dresser whose top came close to the ceiling, and also conveniently by the door. Okay, I was standing on the highest point of the room, just a narrowish ledge, and if it was any higher I wouldn't fit. But this was okay.

The door burst open again and Derrick flew in, knife clutched in shaking hands. I don't know why it surprised me to find out that he was actually extraordinarily nervous. He halted upon realizing his room was empty. At least, to his viewpoint.

I slunk as close to the edge as I could, eyeing the middle of his back.

"M-Marx?" Derrick called out. He didn't realize. I controlled this.

"Cannonball!" I howled, and kicked off the dresser. My feet landed squarely on his back before he could turn around properly and we both went crashing to the floor. He took the brunt of the force, effectively knocking the wind from his lungs. I went straight for the dagger. My fangs dug into his fingers, trying to relinquish his vice-grip.

As if by some surge of extra strength, he wrenched his hand back and flipped himself around. I abruptly found myself lying on my back, the blade hovering above my eyes and a very terrified Derrick sitting over me. His bleeding hand was shaking like crazy, and I was pretty sure that that one finger bent the wrong way must hurt like hell to be holding the knife so tight.

I giggled and licked the addictive red substance off my fangs. Merely watching him. He did look so nervous! A little horrified, maybe. Different flavors of emotion. One thing was quite sure - murderous was not among those flavors.

In fact, he looked a bit like prey. Shifty and frightened in the eyes of his predator. Oh, irony, because he had the knife and I really couldn't do all that much right now, could I! Really, he ought to be at least doing something. It's not too entertaining to just lay on the floor aimlessly.

Hm. I eyed his scarred forearms hungrily. _See now, Mrs. Reynolds, you should be more generous with your chocolate chip cookies. I'm still hungry. You don't leave a guest hungry, that's bad manners._ Curious. Very curious. I'd never really... well, bit people, yes, but that wasn't the same thing at all. Even during the incident that lead to my suspension, I never did more than tear at his skin. I was certainly familiar with that sweet, metallic taste, but never actually...

"I-I..." Derrick began.

Sighing inwardly, I snapped my attention back to his tortured expression. His voice was a hoarse whisper, "I c-can't... can't k-k-kill even y-you. I can't d-do that."

"Oh," I said simply. Nice to know, I guess. Slowly, his hand lowered the knife and he leaned back, gazing at me as though I was some otherworldly creature, and that his inability to destroy me was somehow my fault.

I sat up, blowing air out of my lips in slight annoyance. Well, that was stupid. I ripped the knife out of his hands without an ounce of hesitation.


	24. Chapter 24

It was a small matter to get the cord around his wrists once he realized he couldn't kill something. From there, it was also not difficult to slink around the town and get to my house. Now that I had him completely at my mercy, the rest of the plan should be simple. First, I needed to organize the 'party.' Of course, I could do this completely on my own, without Derrick's help, but for validity I wanted him to assist.

That's why, shortly after I captured Derrick, I trotted down the stairs to the basement with a phone my mouth. No worries; I would be watching him the entire time and make sure he never tried to call anyone he wasn't permitted to call, and wouldn't try to reveal what had happened to him.

There was quite the set-up. My basement wasn't really furnished; dim and made of concrete. I guess my foster parents never had much use for it. But there were support beams that held up the ceiling. Derrick's back was to one of these concrete beams, arms tied above his head with the cord from the vacuum cleaner. I'd found some old handkerchief to tie around his mouth so he wouldn't be all noisy, and the rope was knotted around the beam in case I needed it at a later time.

I padded over to his corner and smiled cordially at him as I dropped the phone at his feet. "Hi, pet," I greeted cheerfully.

He tilted his head up and glared at me with silent fury. But there was fear, too – it kept him from retorting. Well, both fear and the bindings around his mouth did that.

"I need you to make some calls," I told him, nudging the phone with my foot. "We're going to have a party, yes?"

He pressed his back against the beam, fierce eyes boring into me.

"Don't worry; it's all your friends! I would dial and talk to them myself but… I don't think I can make my voice sound like yours, and I certainly can't press these tiny awkward buttons." I frowned at the phone. Stupid design made it practically impossible for me to use; my feet, while very capable, didn't have quite that precision.

I continued, "Of course, this means I'll have to take off your gag. We should probably go over some basic rules, don't you think? I wouldn't want anything to go wrong – and YOU don't either." I grinned sadistically. "Sound good? Good. First, you can't try to scream. Nobody will hear you down here anyway, but still – case in just! Second, you aren't allowed to dial ANY number but the ones I tell you. You know them all, so there shouldn't be any problem, right?"

He nodded frantically.

"Third, I FORBID you from telling ANYONE where you are, or even revealing that you are anything but 100% fine! Because you are 100% fine!"

He tried to nod again, but I growled. "Not yet!" I grabbed the back of the gag in my teeth and ripped it out before spitting it out on the floor. "Okay, swear it!"

"I-I swear…"

"Swear what?"

"I swear I won't tell anyone where I am, or anything else," he recited fearfully.

I narrowed my eyes. Surely he would not so easily comply? He hadn't been this afraid a moment ago. Mentioning the phone calls really shouldn't unnerve him so much…. Should it? I figured he was more resilient than this. "You better not tell anyone," I growled.

"Not a soul."

Too submissive, but I'd just have to keep an eye on him. I got the rope and tied it around his feet before looping it back around the beam. If I was going to free one arm, then you could sure bet he didn't get the privilege of feet. He couldn't have any more limbs than I did; that wasn't a safe balance.

I was getting really efficient at tying knots too: I had a whole method for it. I would hold the rope near its end in my fangs, making a half-circle. Then, I could use my tongue to loop the end through the half circle. By letting go of the half circle and then pulling the end all the way through, I could make a very good knot.

Once these two knots were finished, I loosened Derrick's left arm from its binds. He cringed as he slowly lowered the arm: his muscles must be sore from being held up for so long.

"There," I said, trotting back in front of him. I pushed the phone so it was within his reach. "555-4319. Call him and say you're having party tomorrow night at Town Square at six." I smiled. "Remember, it is a party! You have to sound excited … Or, as excited as you get about these events. Just act normal."

"That's Kai's number," Derrick gaped. "How did you get that?"

"Hmm, your best friend, isn't it? Yes. Well, that's none of your concern! Call him."

His eyes lingered on me; a look I couldn't easily discern. Then he bowed his head. "Okay." He reached out, wincing at his protesting muscles, and slowly dialed in the numbers. I watched carefully to ensure he didn't try to call anyone else. He did it with painful slowness, and trembling hands, as though trying to figure out what to do, how to resist. I didn't like that mentality at all.

"Remember the rules!" I snapped.

555 - 2319. He hit send. The phone ran loudly in the cold room; once, twice, thrice. Click.

"Hello?" the voice said on the other end.

"H-hi," Derrick greeted. My stare intensified. Don't mess it up.

"What's up?"

Derrick's voice was strained, but it seemed like he was at least trying to sound normal. "...Nothing much. Uh, I'm... planning a party."

"Cool man, where at?"

"The... Town Square, at six tomorrow."

"What? No alcohol in the middle of town, idiot."

"Uh... Well, I..."

"Just say you have something better planned," I whispered faintly.

"Who's with you?" Kai asked. "You have someone at your house?"

"I..." He suddenly leaned forward and pressed the phone tight to his ear, turning away from me. "It's Marx - fucking help me, in his basement -"

I darted forward and kicked him hard in the side. He fell hard onto the concrete, but his one bound arm twisted behind his back and kept him from really laying down all the way. He held the phone desperately, trying to add in his last words, "He's gone fucking batshit ins-"

I kicked the phone out of his hands; it slammed against the wall and shattered. I rounded on him in fury. My foot slammed into his chest, maybe a little harder than I thought it would, and his head cracked against the concrete. I leaned close, fangs bared. Fear swiftly replaced his resilience.

"You still have the use of your hands to dial the buttons," I told him with a forced smile. "This really is just my advice, but I do highly suggest you mind that little fact, because I could quite easily remove them for you, yes?"

He nodded enthusiastically, but I wasn't sure he was all there or not. The blow to his head made it hard for his eyes to focus on me.

"Yes?" I repeated.

"Y-yes, yes!"

"Good," I exclaimed, stepping back. "Goodly good. Now, I'm going to get a new phone and you will call back to tell him you're all fine!" Another nod.

I smiled and trotted from the room. It was amazing how smoothly Derrick managed to complete the remainder of the calls. It didn't even occur to him that I didn't actually have any way to cut off his hands in the first place. Unless I got very creative, that is.

Of course, there was one last call. One I much preferred to handle myself. He dialed the digits at my order, and I waited patiently for her to answer.

Ring... Ring... I yawned... Ring...

"Hello?"

"Mrs. Reynolds! Hey hey hey, sorry we left so fast!"

"Maruku? Where are you and Derrick? Did you two go to the town?"

"Yes, I'm sorry - we know we should've told you, but I guess we were just so glad to get to hang out!"

"Well that's fine, as long as you are being careful. May I speak to Derrick?"

"He's buying our tickets for a movie, but - oh, heh, he just waved and said hello - is there anything you needed to tell him?"

"Just make sure he sticks to our rules, no going past Hayashi's borders, no-"

"Yes, I'm coming Derrick, calm down," I interrupted loudly, then said back into the phone, "Mhm, he already told me the rules so we can know to follow them."

"Oh, good-"

"Our movies starting soon, but real quick - is it okay if Derrick spends the night? We were thinking about making a campfire and - don't you think s'mores would be good? - it seemed like a lot of fun, I've never had one."

Mrs. Reynolds stuttered, trying to take in all the information at once. "W-well wait, where are you staying? You won't be leaving Hayashi Grove, will you? We have one of the safest towns, Maruku, and it's not that I don't trust you, but -"

"No worries," I assured her. "We're staying at the inn by Town's Square. My parents rented two rooms for our stay. We'll be here a few days, so..."

"The inn? I do know the innkeeper; he's a very nice man. Well, I suppose he can spend the night but absolutely no staying up late. And make sure he gets to school tomorrow!"

"Yes, yes, movie-"

"One last thing! Can you ask him if he knows anything about the vacuum? The cord is completely gone like something chewed it off!"

"You should check for rats," I nodded, not really realizing she couldn't actually see it through the phone. "Happened to our house - oh! - here's Derrick, one minute."

I kicked the phone his way and grinned wickedly.

"Derrick?" Mrs. Reynolds voice came through the phone.

"H-hi, mom -" a very mortified Derrick articulated. "Uh, I gotta go, the movie is starting." His voice started to crack and I stepped in.

"Yep! Talk to you later!"

"Be careful!"

I stepped on the end button.


	25. Chapter 25

The following day at school, I set in motion the rest of the plan. It was quite easy, to get people to believe...

"You haven't heard?" I stared. "Wow, even I've heard of the party!"

The student I happened to be talking to at the moment, just as predicted, appeared self-conscious and worried. This was so easy it wasn't even funny. Well, maybe a little, but I was a bit disappointed about the ease with which the entire school could be manipulated. I could count on nearly every person being so self-conscious and concerned about their public image that they would pretend they'd known about the 'party' all along, and that it was ridiculous to even assume the unpopular Marx had told them. They'd probably turn right around and pull this 'You haven't heard?' show to their friends. Pitiful.

"Heard what?" the student asked anxiously. "A party?"

"Duh! It's Derrick's birthday party, EVERYONE is invited. I mean, I guess I wasn't, but pretty much everyone else. Although..." I trailed off meaningfully, eyeing the student.

This would be the worst: compared to ME, the crazy kid, as the ONLY other person not invited.

"I'm sure Derrick just forgot to tell me," the student hurriedly justified.

"Hmm... Well, you're probably right. You're in the 'cooler' crowd, so I bet you would've been invited. There's just so many people attending; I don't think he formally invited everyone anyway."

"Yeah, of course. I'll be there," the kid said defensively. "Uh... when and where is it?"

"I heard six at the Town Square, tonight. Apparently he has something big planned." I looked down in an imitation of sadness. "I wish I could go."

"Sorry." The kid shrugged.

In this manner, I went around and told many kids of the 'party.' Between who I'd talked to and Derrick's personal group of friends, news would spread fast, and soon the whole school would be attending. Perfect.

Or, almost perfect. I was uncomfortably aware of one person who kept an unnaturally close eye on me all day: Kai. Derrick's best friend. And also the only one who had directly been told where Derrick truthfully was - though I thought he'd been convinced otherwise.

More than once I felt that unpleasant crawling sensation of someone watching me, and turned to meet Kai's eyes before he would look away quickly.

In hindsight, I should've expected he would not believe. After all, Derrick couldn't have sounded exactly normal, even when he called back... To my knowledge, Kai hadn't told anyone of his suspicions yet, but I had a lurking fear that he would not let everything pass exactly as I wished.

I left school that afternoon in solemn contemplation, weighing my options. I was ecstatic that everything had gone so well in general, but Kai was definitely a problem. Unfortunately, I wasn't sure how to convince him that there was nothing wrong. I doubted there was a way. Kai always seemed to be the quieter of their group, but he was loyal. For whatever reason, he WAS Derrick's best friend, and well... he had every reason to be worried.

I was so caught up in my thoughts I didn't hear Arianna trot up to me as I headed down the familiar path to my house until she spoke,

"Hi, Marx."

I jumped a little before my expression brightened. It was always nice seeing Arianna. "Hey hey hey, how are you?"

She shrugged. "Okay, I guess."

I looked over in surprise: this wasn't a customary answer for her. "Huh?"

She shifted uneasily. "Don't you find it a little odd that Derrick's having a party tonight, but he didn't show up to school? Has anyone even talked to him? I'm worried... especially after Andrew..."

"He's probably just skipping," I assured her.

"That's what everyone's been saying, but I don't know... I feel weird about this."

I nodded sympathetically. "Don't worry; I bet it's nothing. Anyway, it's been months since Andrew's death. Why would you still be worried?"

Arianna stopped in place so quickly that I had to pause and back up the ball to stop beside her. "What?" I asked. "What is it?"

She glanced at me oddly. "His death?"

Oh. It'd completely slipped my mind: as far as everyone else knew, Andrew had only gone missing. That meant there was no way to be certain if he was dead or alive, and made my comment seem a little strange.

"It's not unreasonable is it?" I said, hurriedly trying to justify my choice of wording. To add to the effect, I lowered my eyes sadly. "It's not like... If he was still alive, he would return, wouldn't he? What else could've happened?"

Arianna shivered. "I don't know; I don't like to talk about this anyway. It gives me the creeps. Please, don't say he died."

"Okay, I won't." Why did it bother her so much? She generally wasn't a very sensitive person. If she didn't like that subject so much, what would she think of me if she knew...?

I don't think I could stand her disliking me. It was a disturbing thought, but once it occurred to me, I couldn't get it out of my head. That she might really think of me differently - a bad differently. "Arianna?"

"Yes?"

"Would you still like me, even I wasn't the good guy?"

"... What do you mean?" Cautious. Trepidation in her tone.

That wasn't an answer. I tried to calm myself down, assuring that she was only being careful, because it wasn't answer, it meant the answer could still be anything. Could still be that she'd understand and view me the same. Yes, that was possible too, she was so understanding, after all, that was part of the reason I liked her so much.

I could... I could show her. Everything was going to go downhill tonight anyway; crash and burn, destruction without hope of ever going back to what I had begun to know as normal.

If I was going to so utterly destroy my own reputation and innocence in the eyes of all the townspeople... Then Arianna deserved to know beforehand. I deserved to know what she would think about me, before everyone else realized it.

I turned to her with a new fervor burning in my eyes.

"Come to my house before the party," I urged her. "There's something I want to show you."

"W-what? Marx, you're acting really odd, even for you. What do you want to show me?"

"I can't tell you now! Please, you just have to come. I need you to come before the party starts."

"Is something wrong?" she stepped closer. "Marx, if there's something you need to tell me, I'm here now, okay?"

I shook my head violently. "No, not now. Later."

Somehow she understood this wasn't just some small topic, and she pressed it further in a dead serious voice. "What is it? What can't you tell me now?"

I rolled my ball backwards from her and winked. "Just come to my house. I'll show you." Then, I tap-tapped away, leaving Arianna to stare after me in confusion.


	26. Chapter 26

Back and forth I paced on the cold basement floor, back and forth endlessly like a possessed animal. Something was going to go wrong, I knew it. Something had to go wrong. It wasn't just the fact that every other plan had messed up in some unforeseen way, and not one had been wholly successful without me changing things halfway through. What really backed my seemingly unfounded fear was that every other one I'd thought up so perfectly, and it was only until the very moment I put them into use when something went wrong - but I was always able to fix it by then.

This time... this time was different. Things were going wrong before they should, and it was driving me to surely unreasonable anxiety. There was just too much I didn't completely control.

Inviting Arianna over was of course one of these things - originally, I hadn't counted on her being around. I did still trust my judgement from earlier on that one, though - Arianna deserved to know what I intended to do. If anything, I hoped she would be able to assure me nothing bad would happen. She wasn't my greatest concern - Kai was more worrisome.

He was the only one who had been told exactly where Derrick was, and that was more dangerous than anything. What if he had informed the police of his suspicions? They may be weak and oblivious, but even Hayashi's police officers couldn't deny that holding someone prisoner in their basement was illegal. Or what if Kai went to Mrs. Reynolds? She'd be able to confirm that Derrick hadn't been home since yesterday, because he was hanging out with the foreign exchange student. Then it would be obvious something was up. My half-panicking mind continually designed ideas to evade either such situation, but they all fell through with some mistake or another.

I groaned in frustration, turning on my heel again to stalk back across the basement. Derrick's eyes followed me ceaselessly, silently, with a blank apathy. It didn't surprise me that he showed only boredom at this point - I'd been at this for about half an hour. Though six o clock was creeping closer and closer, I still didn't know what to do about Kai... or even anything else, for that matter, for I felt that this certainty of failure was not simply because of Kai, but rather a product of my nerves, and wasn't something I could easily get rid of. Furiously I ground my teeth together and muttered swears to myself, when a small 'bzzt' interrupted my thoughts. I snapped right back to the present.

The doorbell.

Because I convinced my foster parents to have a night out {some crap about strengthening their marriage}, which they had left for only about an hour previous, I knew it wasn't them. Meaning Arianna was here - earlier than I expected, maybe, but here.

I let out a nervous chuckle of relief, for Arianna was sure to help me. Maybe she would have some suggestions of what to do, or at least she could talk to me and calm this unbearable frenzy. I darted up the stairs, kicking shut the basement door after me.

I opened the front door, "Hey, Aria-"

It wasn't Arianna. I gasped, unable to form a greeting at first. Kai stood on my doorstep, head bowed, hands clasped shyly together. His somewhat longer bright red hair hung over his eyes, making it difficult to read his expression. He'd come here. By himself. To investigate on his own? Although... no... hm... He hadn't even alerted the police or gone to Mrs. Reynolds? I cleared my throat, recovering. Didn't even have to fake my surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I got a weird phone call yesterday," Kai said, eyeing me - determining my reaction, I would assume. I waited a few beats expectantly, then scowled,

"Okay... it's not like I manage your calls."

"No, but I think it was from your phone."

I narrowed my eyes distrustfully. "You have my phone number?"

"No, of course not." Kai shifted in place, clearly torn between what to believe. His shaded eyes darted questioningly into my house before meeting my gaze. "Look, you really don't know anything about this?"

"About what?" I snapped. "All you told me is that you think some 'weird' call is my fault, but I hardly know you, certainly don't like you, and really am not comfortable with you at my house."

"Can you at least give me your phone number?"

"No way, are you stalking me or something?"

Kai sighed. "Like I said, I got a strange call yesterday from Derrick, but the number that showed up wasn't his, and he invited me to the party tonight before flipping out and saying something about you being insane and he was like... in your basement or something. I wondered if the number might've been yours..."

I gaped at him. "What is wrong with you?"

Kai tugged on his fiery bangs anxiously. "I know, I swear I'm not making this up -"

"And you came to me, because you thought he was telling the truth?" I interrupted, my voice raising in false anger.

He mouthed wordlessly, then gestured with his hands. "I didn't know what to think! He sounded really unnatural, and I just thought of that one time at the lake when you kept saying you weren't crazy..."

I involuntarily flinched and growled low in my throat. "Do you want proof? I'll give you my number." I promptly listed several random numbers as if I'd known the sequence my whole life. "There, that doesn't match, does it?"

"No," Kai admitted, "Something's gotta be up though; he wouldn't just do this to me."

"What, you two have a 'bromance?'" I sneered. "Am I supposed to care?"

Kai glared from under his hair. "It's called friendship, freakshow, not that you'd understand."

"What about Arianna?" I challenged. "Friendship right there."

"Relationships like that don't count."

"What do you mean, 'relationships like that?'"

Kai shrugged. "Dating someone isn't the same as just being friends."

"What? We're not dating."

"Oh, really? ... The whole school thinks you are, then. That's why Victoria won't hang out with her any more, and Derrick hates you - but ugh, this isn't important right now. You're sure you don't know anything about this?"

"Why would I have any reason to lie? If anything, Derrick's just targeting me for some crappy prank. I mean, he's having a party tonight - why would he do that if there was anything wrong?"

"You do have a point..."

"Of course I do," I replied, "And I was in the middle of something, so I'd really appreciate it if you would go away now."

"Gladly," he muttered, and prepared to turn before halting, an odd look entering his eyes. "Wait..."

I froze. Oh no. Had I slipped up, did he catch something - the basement door was closed, right? - was it- oh god oh god.

"One last thing," he said.

"Y-yes?"

"About Arianna... I don't know if you're just too oblivious to realize this, but she does like you that way. If you don't, that's fine, but don't lead her on or anything, okay freakshow?"

I could've sighed in relief had the gesture not been inappropriate for the conversation. Then what he said struck me and I frowned. "I don't lead her on."

"It's just something Derrick said," Kai defended, holding up his hands. "He wanted to make sure you're not messing around with her feelings, but I figured he'd never ask you himself, so..."

"Thank you so much, I love advice from people I hate," I smiled sarcastically and kicked the door closed.


	27. Chapter 27

"Hey hey hey!"

"I'm here," she said. There was a large nondescript book held tightly in her hands. I could still see the concern in her eyes.

"You are," I nodded.

"Yes... I have something for you, Marx." She raised the book. "I think... we need to talk, and I brought this because it might be able to help..."

"Okay," I agreed. "But remember, I do have something to show you. And explain to you. We'll read the book later. This is important right now. Don't look so nervous, though!"

"Should I be nervous?" she asked. "It seemed like you knew something about Andrew's disappearance - did you see something?"

"Hm, it's not really about that. C'mere, you'll see." I led her to the door to the basement, then turned and smiled. In truth, I was a little nervous too. More like I was feeling two contradictory things at once. Excitement, and hesitance. Excitement, because I really wanted her to know who I was, and what I'd done - and would do. Hesitance, because some lingering voice told me it would only hurt me. That I knew her reaction, and it wasn't something I could reverse.

But... this was it. The end, in a way. Where everything came together. I couldn't reverse it anyway, so I had to show her.

"Remember how I told you I had sort of a surprise? The one I've been working on a while?"

"Yes...?"

"Well, it's going to happen tonight. But of course, I figure you should know a bit about what's going to happen before it happens, y'know? Since we're such close friends, you have that right."

She seemed to relax a little. Just a little. "Ok sure, lead on."

I was stalling. But she was here, I was here - really, I ought to get going. "Come on," I encouraged, kicking open the basement door. I leapt up and flicked the switch to the basement and descended the steps into the coldness.

Derrick could be heard shifting around; probably waking up from the state of half-consciousness he usually seemed to be in whilst he was tied up.

"Hello!" I called out cheerfully.

"Hello?" Arianna echoed in confusion.

I stepped off the last stair and saw Derrick jerk in surprise to the second voice. I'd never had anyone else come down here. Obviously. "Yes, hello. I'm being polite, see? Close your eyes."

"Close my eyes? Why? Won't I fall?"

"Nah. You'll be fine. Just trust me. You know you can trust me."

She carefully went down the last steps, one hand tracing along the wall to find her way, as her eyes were faithfully shut.

I paused in the center of the room and smiled at her helpless trusting. In case things went bad, I wanted to be closer to the door than her. "Follow my voice," I encouraged quietly. "There's nothing on the floor from where you are, trust me."

She stuck out her tongue immaturely - something she'd picked up from me. "Fine, Marx. This had better be worth looking like an idiot. Don't let me trip over anything."

"You're good."

Derrick was watching everything transpire with horror and anger in his eyes. I grinned and winked at him. The fact he himself liked Arianna made this all so much better. I hadn't even taken into account his reaction: how foolish of me. Bonus.

"A little further... Okay, stop."

She stopped a few feet from me, and I quietly circled around her. Closer to the door. "Alrighty, you can open your eyes now!"

Half a second later, she violently staggered back upon catching sight of Derrick, letting out a petrified yelp. He certainly wasn't much to look at: scarred forearms, wrists rubbed raw, bruises from the whole phone call scenario. Those were his fault, though, for not listening to the rules. The book she had been holding dropped to the floor with a loud clunk. She sounded very uneasy. "Marx...?"

I licked my lips nervously. I needed to be a hundred percent truthful. Truth is kind of scary, and so much more challenging than lies. Arianna deserved to know, though - no, more like... I needed her to know. Because she meant so much to me, I wanted to prove that it was she alone I could fully believe in. It occurred to me suddenly that this devotion, fixation, reliance - all this must be love. The thought distracted me and I said dazedly,

"Arianna - I think I love you!"

"W-what?"

Of course, this was to be expected. I cursed myself for being so random - I hadn't even explained myself, so I shouldn't possible expect her to understand yet.

"I'm sorry," I recovered with a small chuckle. "I just realized it, though that isn't the exact reason you're here. It occurred to me just now that I trust you above everyone else. You're always so kind and accepting, and it does mean so much to me - it's why I decided to tell you about my plan - the first one I've told anyone. Arianna, I organized the whole party for tonight, for weeks - months! - I've been so impatient, but tonight..." I purred, "Well, I'm going to kill him."

She said nothing. She was shaking really badly.

"Well?" I panted. My footsteps echoed hollowly against the walls as I approached her slowly. "What do you think?"

She adopted a soothing yet wavering tone. "Marx... I think you're really, really confused right now. Can... can we p-please talk about this?"

She had a really nasty habit of avoiding questions, didn't she?

"I didn't think there was anything to talk about." She still didn't face me; gaze fixed on Derrick as if he was something worth looking at it. I didn't like it. Not at all. "Don't look at him!" I snapped. She jumped and hurriedly diverted her eyes to the floor.

She whispered, "Okay. That's okay, let's just... think this through, all right?"

"I have thought it through. I have everything planned."

She nodded slowly. "Y-yes, I can see you do, but I don't think you want to do this, Marx. Whatever this is... it isn't like you. Let's calm down, and think rationally here..."

"I was calm, but you're making me nervous! You're not giving me a straight answer! What do you think? Now that you know, you still think of me the same, right?"

She cringed, but continued very carefully, "I... I'm not comfortable with h-hurting someone else."

"So, if I want to, you're not comfortable with that either?"

"Not exactly, but... I m-mean, of c-course I still..." she took a deep breath and began again slowly, "It's what we do that define who we are. Maybe you do... think other things, but you don't act on them." She offered a weak smile, as if it made all the difference in the world. "See, Marx, so you're a good person."

Had she told me this before, I may have believed her. But she didn't know those words no longer applied, which meant they didn't wholly reflect her opinion on me.

"Marx isn't like you say," I breathed. "He isn't... not like you say. Just, you're wrong - don't know."

"Don't know... what?" Arianna pressed. "You're not..." It seemed to dawn on her. Her eyes widened. "What did you do? When?"

"I was afraid," I told her. "I needed... You remember Andrew?"

She gaped. "Is he here?" She looked left and right frantically.

I chuckled. "No, no. Marx killed him. I put the rope on him and tugged it good and tight and I shoved him in the water and Marx killed him. You found me out on the ice, remember?"

If she was disturbed before, she was now downright horrified. She scrambled away like I was a disease, backed up until her back pressed against the cold concrete wall. "You murdered him."

"Not really," I shook my head. "I mean, theoretically yes. But I just needed to conquer my fear of Derrick. He helped me do it."

Tears sprung to her eyes. "Noo, t-that's - oh god, Marx, what have you done?"

"I had to!" I retorted. Couldn't she at least understand that? "Did you want me to be afraid? I tried to conquer my fear; that's what he was there for, and it didn't really work, but this will! This is! Marx will kill Derrick, and it'll be okay again! Then... then we can fix this, right? You get it, right?"

She shook her head pitifully, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her arms trembled as she wrapped them around her body tightly. "N-no... I-I - oh no..." her eyes swerved to the stairs.

Escape. I narrowed my eyes. "I suppose I should have expected your reaction. Maybe I was hoping for something different, but maybe that wasn't too reasonable."

Her eyes snapped back to me, but I didn't know how she could see anything with them so watery and full of tears. "Do you really just want to leave now that you know?" I challenged. "But... I thought you liked me. Does that change now, because I'm not so perfect? You were so understanding. You knew there was something different about me. Can't you still accept that difference?" I slowly stalked closer.

She was the one I'd trusted. It was her, all along, that was supposed to believe in me, and stay by my side regardless of what happened. When my world flipped, she wasn't allowed to change because she was the one I always returned to to fix it. I couldn't allow her opinion of me to change - at least, not without it changing back.

She flattened herself against the wall, but she didn't have anywhere to run. "I can't like a murderer. There may have been something different, but you were still a good person." It was amazing how fierce she managed to look despite her fear. She really didn't want to accept this.

I paused inches from her face. "Hm. What does that even mean? It was a little fun, actually. I enjoyed it enough, at least, to want to do it again. Don't you think, in time, you might like me for it anyway?"

She stared back with a determination I had not yet seen in her eyes before. "You... killed someone. It's very hard to like you after that."

"But not impossible," I grinned, and closed the distance between us in a kiss. A few feet away, Derrick jerked violently in his bonds. I let my glance slide to the side and watched as he yanked his wrists against the cord. Fury dominated his expression, and he didn't even seem to realize the cord was cutting into his wrists. It must really bug him, knowing the one person he liked preferred the one person he completely hated. He met my glance and glared in response, but I finally felt like I was winning. He knew he couldn't do anything about it, even as he tugged at his wrists.

I rolled my eyes in what I hoped was like arrogant indifference, and pulled away from Arianna with a smirk. If she returned the gesture, did that mean she agreed with what I'd said? I hoped so. She was my best friend in all this, so I expected her to stay by my side. Her doubt should only be temporary, and it would fade in time.

At the moment, she refused to look in my eyes, preferring instead to stare intently at the floor and tremble despite my own level gaze. But that was okay: it was getting close to six.

I licked my fangs thoughtfully. Come to think of it, I hadn't actually thought out the whole scenario with Arianna very well. It was nearing six o clock with every second I wasted here, and I wanted to get to the 'party' ahead of time to prepare. Yet now I had to worry about Arianna too. I obviously couldn't just let her go - since she knew my plan, it would be easy for her to run and tell on me, which would, of course, complicate everything. Anyway, I didn't want her to run. She was to be there for me.

Unfortunately, she couldn't come with me: even if I bound her arms like Derrick, there was no way I could keep track of the both of them by myself. That left me with two logical options: either lock her in here until I returned or -

No, never mind, only one option. She would have to stay here until I came back.

Silently, I turned away and looped one of the ropes into a noose before walking over to Derrick and slipping it around his neck. "Alright," I said, eyeing Arianna. "You must stand in that far corner - yes, right where you are now - and can not move from that spot, okay? Not until I'm out of the house. If you move even an inch, I'll just pull on the noose, and it'll be your fault if he gets hurt. And Derrick - I think you know what happens if you try to run. You never know - I might still save you yet."

With my instructions clear, I untied Derrick from the wall and lead him forward with the rope around his neck. It probably made a funny image, because he looked kind of like a dog on a leash. I was assured he wouldn't run but Arianna I was unsure about.

I slowly walked to the stairs backwards, watching Arianna carefully all the while. She remained still in her corner, her own eyes following my movements cautiously. Finally I reached the stairs and had to turn around - walking backwards up the stairs wasn't something I really wanted to attempt in such a situation - but I listened hard to make sure I heard nothing from back in the basement. She didn't move an inch. Perfect.

I grinned, surprised at how easily that had gone. We both made it up the last few steps, and I tied Derrick to an adjoining door before locking the basement one. It took a little more time than I anticipated, but the clock told me it was only 5:32. We had plenty of time.


	28. Chapter 28

There was a little marble-colored ledge to step up on: this was lit up by the city and theater lights, unlike the dark roof where we were. I could choose to step into the light when I wanted, but for now I lingered in the darkness, my back against the cold ledge. Derrick sat in front of me, so I could always watch him.

He was bound up in a rather clever contraption, which had taken a little time for me to set up {and had required me to go hunting around the town for more rope a few days prior}. One rope was knotted around his left wrist, trailed across half the roof, and tied to the base of the left beacon light. The same was done to his right wrist, except it was tied to the opposite side. In his current position, both ropes were slightly slack so he didn't have to awkwardly hold out his arms like some possessed zombie or whatever. I figured I owed him that kindness.

Anyway, the vacuum cord was plugged into the outlet for the theater lights, and the bandana was still around his mouth. The noose around his neck, meanwhile, wasn't tied to anything quite yet. Courtesy of the now empty jug beside me, he smelled pretty badly of gasoline, and his hair was slicked down with it. The first truly flammable Yaban, to my knowledge.

This needed to be perfect: I wouldn't have any mistakes.

I could hear rowdy kids filtering into the Town's Square below, their talking and laughing. But I still had a few minutes to wait – I wanted to make sure there was as many people as possible.

Soon now, very soon. I watched his eyes as I waited. Wide and scared, but also infuriated - he hadn't been too happy about the whole scenario with Arianna.

It was a weird feeling rising - multi-layered and unclear. Glee and anticipation, swirling in my mind like knots of writhing snakes; almost painful but sordid and tempting. Sickly sweet. But also the knowledge - not quite an urge - to just walk away. Keep up those innocent delusions in the eyes of the people. Because maybe that meant - just maybe - that I was innocent. This knowledge hurt too. I reminded me I had choice, reminded me I had been something before this.

I couldn't stand being ripped between; it hurt too much, ached too much. Two different extremes were tearing at me, and I knew I had to pick, because you can never have both, no matter how much you long for each.

I told my memory it was gone. Gone to me now. Memory is only a part of the past which, while having some effect in the shaping of the present, is still something wholly different than the present. Memories would be the present, if nothing had corrupted them. Would be is not is.

Is is now. Present. It's the voices in the Town's Square, it's the dark sky over my head, the stars stretching out to meet eternity. It's the cold gritty roof and the shadows that hide us. It's the pure white ledge behind me, lit up by the movie theater lights like a stage just waiting for me. There's no would be here. There's now.

I took a deep breath and stood up. Now.

I fixed a smile on my face. "Are you ready?" I whispered to Derrick. "Everyone's ready for us; can't disappoint now, can we?"

Derrick's eyes got even wider, if possible.

I could only assume he was trying to speak, because of the muffled words, but the bandana kept him pretty quiet. I didn't want to remove it yet: firstly because I didn't want him screaming or anything over my own words. Secondly, there was no way I would underestimate one's ability to make use of their teeth to escape.

"Stand on the ledge," I ordered. "If you're good, I might let you go, y'know." He glanced at the edge of the roof warily. He thought I was going to kick him off. "That'd be too quick," I assured him, "In fact, if you think you're going to die, you might just want to jump! That would be less painful, and a much faster way to go. So many choices, right?"

It was so funny how such a person as Derrick could be reduced to this terrified, compliant puppet. I smiled. "To the edge, then, go on!"

He skirted around me and very slowly approached the edge of the roof. I almost laughed when he stretched up his leg to step on the ledge and nearly fell over. He was horrible at balancing. The second time he managed to get his foot atop it and heaved himself up, up into the theater lights.

I hesitated, back in the darkness, then took a deep breath and stepped up next to him. My gaze curved down to the Town Square below us; the street, students, even adults that for some reason or another had shown up. The height was breathtaking and I breathed in slowly, exhilarated.

The first person noticed us. Hands gestured, they shouted out for others to look. Gradually, those nearby turned and tilted their heads back. It was the rock to start the ripple, and soon everyone was peering up in bewilderment.

"Hey, what are you doing up there?" someone cried out.

"Idiot, you'll get yourselves killed!"

"We're joining the party of course!" I declared. "You can't have a party without the guest of honor!"

Confusing muttering, then,

"Oh my god! Is that a rope like, to hang somebody?"

"Yes, yes, but hanging would defeat the fun of it, wouldn't it?" I called out. "You're all so unimaginative - and idiotic! That's why you couldn't even realize what I was doing all this time, that all of this was planned by me, and this is definitely the most gruesome party you will ever attend! Why, he's my hostage of sorts! Anyone want to hear him scream?"

Like a wave crashed over the crowd, they collectively staggered away from the building. A few turned and ran.

Rolling my eyes, I ripped off his gag. To my surprise, he didn't say a single word to me.

Shrugging, I stepped down to retrieve the vacuum cord and brought it back before grinning and letting the exposed wires touch his skin. The response was immediate - his muscles clenched and he jerked away with a yelp. Fortunately, he could only move so far, and I followed him with the wire. This time, I held it over his skin longer. He screamed out and tried to jerk away, even though his efforts only tightened the bindings more. "F-fuck," he hissed when I finally stepped away. He glared through his slicked down bangs.

"What?" I laughed. "It's kinda funny to watch you squirm." I paused, wondering if I should tell him. I felt like it was kind of private, but since he wouldn't be able to tell anyone anyway... "There is something else, though."

"Oh yeah?" he growled sarcastically.

"Mhmm. Whenever someone's afraid of me, I feel like I'm closer to them. It's like something ties us together, no matter who it is. The more I hurt them, and the more afraid they are, the stronger it gets. Sometimes they break it though... Do you know what I mean?"

I peered curiously at Derrick. He looked back in disgust. "No, I've never felt that. I feel pain, Marx.

"Oh." I sighed. "Okay." No need to let it get me down. I turned back to the crowd and grinned. "You guys don't want me to kill him, right?"

Heated remarks rose up, petty threats, some begging. "Of course not! Hehehe, y'know what I think I would like to see? Why don't all of you kneel down and bow to us? Shouldn't that be your rightful place?"

The crowd stared blankly. A few immediately fell to their knees and pressed their faces close to the ground, but the majority just had 'is-he-serious?' faces. "No really, wouldn't that be funny? If you don't want to though, I can always just end this now." I nudged Derrick lightly in the back, just hard enough for him to stumble toward the edge.

"Stop! We'll bow," a voice rose above the crowd, stronger than the others. "Just don't hurt him!" Now, who was that? I peered over and saw a figure standing at the very head of everyone else: a tall, proud looking man with a blue hat. My eyes widened. It was the mayor of the town! Had this truly been so important for him to show up too? I chuckled. Then again, in such a small town, I doubted he had much to do anyway.

Now he was calling out to the crowd, trying to make sense out of all the chaos and commanding the people to bow. It was a chaotic effort, since they mostly consisted of students around my age, and they were downright terrified. But eventually, he managed to get each and every one to go down on their knees and stretch their arms flat on the ground before them. {All but those few that fled from the scene, of course}.

It was so ridiculous. I'd really only asked them to do it on a whim, yet they'd still complied nearly unquestioningly. I contemplated asking them to dance too, because it would be hilarious watching all these serious and scared people trying to force out some dance moves. Yes? But for now, I was okay with the bowing thing. Except, there was one problem.

"You have to bow too!" I angrily shouted at the mayor. What, did he think he got out of it, because he'd helped everyone else do it?

The mayor looked mortified. Jeez, did this guy have major pride issues, or what? "Sir, I already have all the citizens doing this for you. Surely you can let him go now?"

I stuck out my tongue. "Don't call me 'sir.'"

Confused, "What should I call you?"

"Uh... Lord Marx!" I cackled, "and you have to bow too. I won't let him go until you do, unless you mean letting him go off the edge. That I can do." I stepped on the rope so Derrick would be unable to actually fall - not that they knew that - and pushed him with my other foot so he was forced to lean precariously over the edge.

"Wait, wait!" the mayor screeched. "No need for that - ah, Lord Marx!"

"Eh?" I yanked Derrick back. The mayor raised his hands in defeat and sank to his knees before fully bowing down.

"Why are you doing this?" Derrick growled at me.

I shrugged. "It seemed funny at the moment, but there wasn't any particular reason. Can I just enjoy myself for a bit?"

"If your sense of enjoyment wasn't this," he choked hoarsely.

I shrugged. "I can't help it if you guys aren't having fun."

"Look, Marx, I'm sorry for anything that I've done to you okay?" Derrick murmured, his eyes more sincere than I'd ever seen them.

"That's nice of you."

"No, really listen - please! I didn't hate you at first, but you just looked different and in Hayashi, we don't have much difference... A-and I was having problems of my own - I hardly ever see my father, he's never home, and I didn't think those small insults would bother you so much." His face crumpled. "Then you started hanging out with Arianna and it was one thing after another. I felt like you'd just come here to destroy whatever life I had left. I d-didn't r-realize how t-true that was. God, Marx, p-please don't k-kill me. I'm all my mom's got l-left, a-and I... I don't wanna d-d-die."

"Well, that's stupid," I frowned. "What does your dad have to do with this? I never knew my parents, and I try not to know my foster parents - they just get in the way."

Derrick gaped at me, both devastation and bewilderment tainting his expression. "H-he's my dad. But m-my parents d-don't get along a-and - Why can't you see that my life hasn't been so great either?"

"Having bad things happen to you doesn't give you an excuse anyway."

"N-no, it doesn't!"

"Oh, I don't want excuses anymore," I smiled. "I'm just doing what feels right."

Derrick's words were nothing more than a broken whimper, "And this feels right to you?"

My eyes drifted down, trailed over the mass of people below me, still bowing for fear of getting up. Then the mayor, arcing his neck in what must be an uncomfortable pose to await my next demands. Their fear, and compliance. Foolishness and subservience. What I must look like, standing proudly high above them all. My gaze returned to Derrick. Trembling, bound in rope and soaked in gasoline, his eyes glinting in the theater beacons and displaying his desperation.

"No," I whispered. "But... It feels good."

Curiously, my eyes shifted down to his arms. From trying to get away from me, there was a lot of slack on one side - but the other arm was held out relatively straight from the tightness of the rope. The scars on his forearms were turned up, very clear in the light.

"Have you ever wondered what people taste like?" I murmured to him.

"D-don't," he moaned. Piteously he tried to lean away, but always the ropes kept him in place like a trapped animal. He didn't seem to realize that he could slacken the rope by getting closer to me, or perhaps he just wasn't thinking straight. "Don't, n-no."

I scooted closer and opened my mouth over his extended arms. My fangs sank deep into the soft flesh, eliciting a sharp cry. He tried in vain to jerk away, which I found to be foolish anyway because it would just shift my grip on his arm. Still unsure, I licked at the warm blood dubiously. After all, this was not something one typically ate, so I couldn't be sure it would be any good. Blood itself was agreeable enough with me...

I chuckled, ah, who was I kidding? Whatever race I may be, I'd been born with fangs, and surely was suited to this task - as if my race were meant for this kind of thing. Definitely carnivorous. Encouraged, I bit down hard and ripped off a large chunk of meat and swallowed. To be perfectly honest, it didn't taste any more special than any other raw food - in fact, it was probably the most unpleasant thing I'd ever eaten in my life. It was soft and slick and repulsive.

But when I glanced at Derrick, I decided the actual taste and consistency wasn't all that important. It was his reaction - the horror and pain and fear in his eyes, far beyond anything I'd yet seen. Though I suppose, being eaten alive would do that to you. I would be willing to eat bricks for that kind of response, and this was certainly much more worth-while.

Laughing, I tore into his arm again, greedily licking up blood and swallowing flesh and muscle to the satisfying sound of his torment - hoarse screaming, half-formed curses and pleadings, strangled moans as he tried to suppress the noise.

In mere seconds, most of his arm from the elbow down was in tattered pieces; a fact about which I found myself feeling rather accomplished. The people in the streets had long since quit bowing, and most were being altogether obnoxiously noisy, but I didn't really care what they did much any more.

I'll admit, I got a little more into it than I expected - I moved up to the upper part of his arm and prepared to devour what I could there, when the sound of rock striking the building facade broke me out of the fervor. Confused, I drew away and looked down in time to see a very familiar red-haired figure lob another rock at me - which didn't quite manage to make it up high enough. Kai. Derrick's best friend.

I couldn't hear what he shouted, for it was drowned out by the sound of the crowd, but I could imagine it probably involved many swear words.

I gave him a sadistic grin, dripping with blood and bits of skin, but to my surprise he did not respond by getting enraged or by shouting angrily. No; in fact I could barely tell what he was feeling. My height made it truly impossible to see whatever expression was hidden under his bangs.

Nevertheless, his actions told me plenty when he stormed purposefully to the theater's front doors and threw them open before disappearing inside. Suddenly anxious, I glanced behind me. In the middle of the roof was a trapdoor to the third floor. It was how Derrick and I had gotten up here, and though I had barred it, it wasn't completely impenetrable. If Kai found a way to bust through...

Swiftly, I grabbed the electrical cord and wrapped one end around the rope, then unplugged and carried the other end to one of the theater's beacon lights. Maybe it was better Kai had come - I'd neglected to realize how pale and weak Derrick was looking, or consider how much blood he'd lost. If I didn't hurry, he might collapse before I could do anything more.

It took a few strong kicks - and considerable pain from the heat - but eventually I managed to shatter the glass of the beacon. I ducked away from the resulting sparks, then returned to hold the end of the cord over the white-hot wire in the light.

Of course, rope was not a conductor, and I wouldn't be able to electrocute Derrick with this method. But that wasn't my intention anyway.

I half-turned back to him, and widened my eyes in an inquiring look, nearly asking, 'This is okay with you, right?'

His glassy eyes stared back in blank horror, shudders violently racking his body so hard that I was afraid he might just slip off the edge. He mouthed wordlessly, "N-n-no..." Not okay? Oh, darn.

With a muffled giggle, I dropped the cord into the light. The gasoline immediately caught and flames burst into existence. I leapt away from the heat, which raced down the length of the cord, then lit the rope. Derrick lost all dignity and thrashed in his bindings, screaming and crying and praying and pleading as if it would stop the devouring fire snaking his way.

Then it licked at his wrist, whatever was left of his forearms, voraciously ate up his shoulder. His screaming leapt an octave, mixed with the crackling fire and maniacal laughter. Fire eats fast, kills slow. It didn't take long for the fire to spread across his whole body, and for utter panic to consume the people in the street. "It's okay!" I cried out to them gleefully. "You don't eat raw, do you? Hehehe!"

"Monster!" some soul from the crowd dared to shriek back.

"Not hungry?" I responded, trying to pout but realizing it wasn't working so well for I was drunk with it: alive in a swelling surge of emotion and power. I couldn't have wiped the smile off my face even if I tried. There was so much strength in my command over each of the townspeople; all of them below me, screaming and horrified at the very sight they beheld. Such fervor and excitement! I was full of the intensity of the moment. This was it. The Now.

His body, a writhing inferno, caused the fire to flicker in an even more glorious and energetic dance. With a hoarse cackle, I swept up behind him and kicked him hard in the center of his spine. He plummeted off the ledge and twisted through the air. Not even halfway down the theater's façade, the ropes around his wrists reached their limit. His plunge came to a sharp halt, marked by this... this sound. He didn't scream anymore. The crowd, judging by their collective reactions, probably had a much better view than me.

I thought I'd enjoy it. I hadn't been prepared for that sound. I didn't know a body would make that sort of sound: the crunch, soft flesh – no, so sharp and quick yet – no, I couldn't describe it. No words.

It was utter madness down below, people screaming, sirens wailing; everyone being really useless, overall. I stumbled back from the balcony, out of the light. Turned, promptly threw up. I felt queasy, sickened; the rancid stench of vomit made it worse. But that wasn't right, I should be happy, should be ecstatic. What had happened to my excitement only a moment ago? Gone, gone like a forgotten dream.

I leaned my feverish head against the cold ledge still slick with gasoline and blood. Someone could come up and find me, break through the barred door and catch me. I needed to leave before that could happen - I was in danger - but…. Oh, I wanted to leave, I wanted to get away, yet, yet I could not move an inch.

Was I hurt? Had something gone wrong? It must have; shouldn't be feeling like this, not at all. I gagged, wanting to throw up again. But nothing came up; I had nothing left to expel from my body. Or if I did, as much as my body rejected it, I couldn't purge it. I think I just stayed there for a few more seconds, dizzy, sick, disoriented. The dwindling time before someone would be brave enough to come up here was always tugging in the back of my mind, Kai, Kai was on his way, but still I could not bring myself to move. I had to stop this. This… this feeling... the sick and helpless thing that surely was close to regret, or remorse. Because… remorse does nothing. It doesn't turn back time. It doesn't even mean you'll do anything different if you're tempted again. It goes to all that trouble to make you hurt for no reason.

So, I stepped away from the wall and made myself laugh. Short and forced at first – almost like choking. I thought about my dreams, and my nightmares, thought about the lake, and drowning, thought about the show I created and how foolish I'd been and the things that hurt – like thorns and knives and words. And I thought that maybe, it had really been inevitable from the start. Maybe it didn't even matter. It was the Now, right? And when you're actually only given one moment in your entire life - or rather, an entire life made up of one moments - all you have to do is decide if you want to enjoy each of those nows or not. Did I want to hurt this way, or did I want it to please me?

So, I threw back my head and laughed, really laughed; wild, raucous, and uncontrolled. And I enjoyed it.


	29. Chapter 29

When I stalked back home, she was there waiting for me. I kicked open the basement door and saw her sitting on the cold floor, poring over the thick tome she'd brought. She flinched and looked up. Trepidation and downright fear flooded her eyes. I was getting real good at recognizing fear.

Resisting the sudden and unexpected impulse to frighten her more, I strode down the stairs confidently. That's what I was; confident, in control, powerful. I controlled my own life now. I did what I wanted, when I wanted, and no one could stop me. Her body stiffened at my approach, and she shrank away as though waiting for some signal to spring backwards.

"I'm going to leave Hayashi Grove," I declared.

"W-what?"

"I said, I'm going to leave Hayashi Grove," I repeated. "Soon, probably, too. It won't take the police too long to find me."

"T-then, you really did...?" she whimpered. I didn't mean to, really I didn't. But she was so afraid, so I replied,

"Nothing he didn't deserve." Slinking closer to her, I wondered how scared I could make her. How far could this go?

It clicked, yet not the same. A different connection snapped into place, one more powerful. I froze, living it, tasting it. I didn't think there would be a difference in the fear of one person to another's. Oh, but there was - why had I never realized this?

You have no idea what it was like - nothing to compare to, no words to fit. It was flying, it was adrenaline and anticipation, it was perfection in a single feeling - yet none of those things, not exactly!

But it was impatient: a thousand coiled snakes slithering and pressing against my ribs from the inside. Something that choked my breath and made everything else so foggy and distant. I stared fixedly at Arianna, not really seeing anything else.

It was like she discerned some visible change for the worse in my countenance, because she tensed and scrambled to her feet before stepping back rapidly. I laughed then, high-pitched giggles that came out somewhat hoarse. Yes. Tears began to shine in her eyes.

"After what I've done, they're not gunna let me back here," I told her. "They're going to want to lock me up and keep me away because I'm the bogeyman to them. But, it's okay, Arianna! I'm not going to let that happen." Another twisted smile. "You won't let it happen either, will you? You wouldn't betray your best friend Marx?"

I needed her reaction, more than anything. I would have given up everything for it, if everything had not already been lost. I needed her fear. Transfixed, I pursued her footsteps.

She took a deep, steadying breath. She even closed her eyes for a moment or two before opening them and meeting my gaze. I didn't anticipate her answer. "No. What you are right now, is not my best friend."

I stopped. My voice came out a dry hiss. "What? What did you say?"

"This isn't you, please, Marx... don't hurt me."

"But you'll come with me, won't you?" I growled. "Yes, yes you will; we'll escape together."

She'd already broken the connection - they always did, break something so perfect - so I felt no hesitation in stalking closer and baring my fangs inches from her face. "You will come with me."

Shaking; that meant she should be afraid, but there was something in her eyes, something like steel. She reached out to push me away, but I recoiled violently before she could touch my skin. Backed up a few steps with warning in my eyes: Don't get any closer.

Her voice was so much more level than I expected it would be. It was like my weakness gave her strength; like a leech. No; that was me. Her weakness giving me strength. "N-no. I'm not leaving with you. I thought that I could fix this because you're truly a good person when you're... you're not like this. I-I didn't do enough, I should've tried harder, but... Marx, there's something really wrong with you and I can't just pretend none of this happened. I'm not going to go with you."

Everything inside me froze. Ice-cold, stopped immediately; I think even my heart ceased for a minute, letting the ice trickle through my veins and freeze my blood. "No, please," I whispered, suddenly stricken with a terrible fear myself. "Please, you can't - no -"

I choked on my words. They simply wouldn't come; weren't there. I couldn't speak. I... wasn't right, wasn't normal, but I liked her fear and - why wasn't she afraid? That wasn't fair, I couldn't deal with this, she, I-

That maybe I really was broken but then that I needed help but I couldn't fix myself. That she tried and she loved me and she tried and tried but she couldn't fix me - maybe nobody could, and I couldn't get better...

Never is a terrible word, it means infinite, eternity, no matter what, won't change.

That I will never be anything but Marx. I shuddered, sickened, then growled at myself in fury.

I'd given up my regret! I'd made a choice there on the rooftop, and I would stick by it! Yet Arianna wasn't fitting perfectly in that decision now. It wasn't my fault - but hers. I had resolved to accept myself for everything I was, yet she couldn't. The very person I had expected to accept me regardless of my actions and behavior. She was turning her back on me when she should be dying to stay by my side.

What was it then; she could only like me when she was sure I was... what had she said... 'good?' That was idiotic - low - no different than the next person. I'd thought more of her - relied upon her to be more than that. Well then...

"Are you okay?" Arianna whispered.

I transformed my countenance into one of sadness and regret. My voice, when I spoke, came out tragic and broken. "Arianna... I'm so sorry... I-I... I'm scared, and I don't..." Fearfully, I stepped closer to her, as though I needed her comfort. "I just wanted to have a friend, just one person that will accept me for me. I thought you would... you've done so... I'm sorry."

If anything, her expression just turned more agonized - less composed. She looked downright horrified, in a way she wouldn't even when I was threatening her.

She sounded so helpless. "Marx..."

"I need to trust you... l-like the one thing I can cling to, you know?" I choked back a false sob.

Hesitantly, she wrapped her arms around me; I closed my eyes and snuggled into the hug as though touch was not something hideous. "I'll be there for you," she whispered. "You can trust me... B-but, you can't l-leave... you've done..." She fell silent and hugged me tighter, as if somehow that would change anything.

Then she heard the low chuckling. Her arms went stiff around me. In another second she jerked away and gazed at me in disbelief.

"Cute," I giggled. "As soon as I act all sad and helpless and remorseful you like me again. That was a test. Turns out you don't love me, just love me when I'm all adorable and helpless. Why is that, huh? So you can manipulate me?"

"You know that's not true, please Marx, s-stop acting so different." Now she was crying. Again. It was ugly; red-faced and watery-eyed. "This isn't like you, you know how much I care..."

I scoffed. "Well, I don't care about you. Get out of my house."

Despite my order, she stretched out a kind paw to gently place against my cheek. I froze, tolerating the gesture. Because touch doesn't really hurt, you know. It makes my skin crawl like there's hundreds of little beetles on me; I hate it, but it doesn't really hurt. I waited, eyeing her unsurely and holding back a flinch.

But nothing more happened. She was quiet and I was quiet and neither of us moved. Maybe this was as close as either of us were willing to get at the moment and, having reached that boundary, we wouldn't get any closer but we wouldn't move away either. Consistency. A different kind of connection? One less linked through fear.

Slowly, I began to relax, almost against my will. I didn't think it could end up well. I didn't think it could be alright. I didn't think that it would change anything. But nothing was changing right now, meaning nothing was getting worse.

But it couldn't stay this way and it certainly couldn't get better. You can't freeze your emotions in one moment to feel forever. Something has to give. And I couldn't get better.

This hurt, this ached, I hurt, I hated pain!

"Don't touch me!" I kicked her hard and she sprawled to the floor with a cry. "I told you to get out of my house!" I planted my feet, breathing hard. "OUT! GET OUT! I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU!"

She flipped onto her back and looked fearfully up. "Please, I can-"

"NO!" I pressed my foot down on her face, flattening her to the floor and gazing down at her with cold purple eyes. "You better get out before I really hurt you." And I found in that moment, I really hated her, for being so naive, for making pain where they didn't need to be any. For being by me.

This time, she didn't hesitate. I lifted my foot, and she scrambled back, turned, and fled. Her footsteps flew up the stairs, then the door burst open and slammed against the wall before rebounding shut again.

I was alone.

I didn't want to think of what had just happened, so I didn't.

Instead, I padded over to the book she had been poring over before I came in.

The most noticeable feature was an illustration of a huge clock watch with eyes and an assortment of seemingly random items stuck haphazardly in its 'body.'

Flicking over the text, I laughed scornfully. This textbook was definitely too hard for Arianna to read; why had she even tried?

My eyes scanned over a passage about the watch. Evidently it was a celestial being called Nova, possessing incredible amounts of power. It... granted wishes.

Had she wanted to wish away this part of my personality? But that was so stupid! Without it, I wouldn't have been able to fulfill my revenge - Derrick would still be alive, and that wasn't the kind of world I wanted to imagine.

Anyway, I thought as I continued to peruse the passage, to summon the Nova, one would have to collect all the Star Power from each star in the solar system. Arianna would NEVER be able to do that.

But I... I was smarter. I could do that, or better yet, find someone to have it done for me... Yes, I was fully capable of getting it done and summoning the comet Nova! It would be easy as pie! Easy as pears!

Then, then I could make ANY wish I wanted. Any wish at all... I licked my fangs hungrily.

Any wish...


End file.
